


The League of Ungentlemanly Warfare

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Dark City (1998), Mirrors (2008)
Genre: AU, Erotica, Espionage, M/M, Nazis, Porn, Slash, WWII, au big bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-06
Updated: 2010-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In January of 1944, I was smuggled into Paris as part of Britain's Special Operations Executive, dedicated to committing clandestine acts of espionage against the Nazis. But my true objective, known only to a few people, was to find and make contact with an individual who had been sending information to the Allies... to determine who exactly this person was, to gather information against Germany, and protect my new source from discovery.<br/>What I found was more than I ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Book 1 - Paris

**Constable Francis Lawrence Byrne**

In January of 1944, I was smuggled into Paris as part of Britain's Special Operations Executive, dedicated to committing acts of espionage against the Nazis. My true objective, however, was to find and make contact with an individual who had been sending information to the Allies... to determine who exactly this person was, to gather information against Germany, and protect my new source from discovery.

Before the war I was a new made constable in the London Metropolitan Police. I had grown up spending my summers as a gangly ginger teen in Normandy and spoke quite good conversational French as a result which would have made me valuable in communications in the war effort. But the need for able bodies for damage control in London had kept me from enlisting. I hadn't expected to spend my career sifting through rubble searching for bodies, and the work was hard, with only the occasional battered survivor to keep my spirits up. Still, I wasn't entirely too surprised when a car driven by a uniformed soldier arrived at the precinct one afternoon in early October in 1943, taking me to 64 Baker Street in London.

I was ushered into a small, stately office, the soldier who had brought me standing guard outside the door. Behind the desk was an older man in uniform, highly decorated. He smiled as I entered, and stood.

"Constable Francis Lawrence Byrne?"

I nodded, and offered my hand, managing not to wince at the usage of my first name, which I hated. I was only Francis to the police force and the government. "Yes, sir. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, Constable. I'm Major General Colin Gubbins, and I believe you may have heard of my organization before - the Special Operations Executive?"

I smiled, giving another sharp nod. "The Baker Street Irregulars, sir? I have. How can I help you?"

"The very same. We were hoping to recruit you for a mission into France," he replied, not wasting any time. "Due to the nature of this mission, we require an individual with as few ties to the existing SOE network in France as possible. Your training as a police officer and reported native proficiency with the language would make you invaluable to us. Would you be willing to accept this mission, for England?"

I hesitated, knowing all too well the dangers that might await me in France. But truthfully I was tired of seeing the wreckage caused by Germany's bombs and not being able to do anything to stop it. So I gave the Major General a brave smile and nodded. "Yes. Tell me what you need me to do."

The next three months were a flurry of activity for me. I was formally transferred and enlisted in the SOE, receiving weeks of training in espionage, radio communication and repair, the state of the occupation in France, and anything else they could cram into my head. Finally in late December I received the details of my assignment.

The British had started using carrier pigeons as a method of obtaining information about German war movements. The pigeons were air dropped over occupied countries in a small crate that instructed the finder on how to send information back to Britain with the pigeon. The success of the pigeons - code named Source Columba - was beyond anyone's expectations, and a good half of the pigeons came back with invaluable information for the allies.

This included a number of pigeons from an individual that SOE referred to as Source X. The information from Source X was, in a nutshell, intelligence gold. We suspected that this person was a member of the French Resistance that had gotten close to a member of the military. But the message that came with the last pigeon had stated that the individual no longer felt safe providing information through those channels. He had then requested an in-person rendezvous and given instructions on several specific meeting points spread out over the course of the next three months.

"I'll be straight with you, Byrne," Gubbins told me during my brief, the day before I was set to leave. "It could be an elaborate attempt to infiltrate the SOE in France. We're sending you because we can't take any chances - we need someone new and fresh with little knowledge of the SOE, so if that person is compromised it doesn't bring the whole bloody thing down. The contact we've given you is a radio operator in the Physician Unit - of which you are unofficially a part - and if the contact proves to be legit, he will give you access to a few other operators to send the information you get back to us. If the contact is not legit... well."

The Major General opened a desk in his drawer, taking out a very small box and passing it to me. Inside, nestled in cotton, were two tiny curved glass tubes, one empty, one with a dark liquid sealed inside. "A Suicide pill?"

"The most advanced we have," he replied. "It's shaped to fit under your tongue beside your teeth without affecting your speech. The empty one is to practice getting used to it. Put the pill in your mouth before your rendezvous. If they resort to physical interrogation that's too much to take, bite down hard and the glass will break. It isn't pleasant, but it'll be better than what the Gerrys will do to try and get information out of you."

I slipped it into my breast pocket and nodded, the seriousness of the situation hitting home. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."

This was how I found myself dressed as a civilian on a nondescript street corner at midnight in France, trying to keep warm in the chilly January air and trying to get used to the taste of French cigarettes. It was late - very late for a civilian to be out and about - and I could only hope that my contact would make it here without detection.

I heard the unmistakable sound of boot heels on the cobblestones, three or four sets, if I wasn't mistaken. I drew myself back further into the shadows of the store front entryway I was standing in, cupping my cigarette in my hand to hide the cherry as I took another drag. The streets of Paris were kept dark at this time of night out of a necessity to conserve energy, but I could see well enough in the light of a moon that was almost full.

A trio group of German soldiers turned the corner - two enlisted men and a third in what looked like a SS uniform, a grey belted jacket and trousers with the black brimmed officer's hat . They stopped, the officer taking something from the pocket of his long coat. A cigarette, I realized as he lit it, and I stayed perfectly still, praying for them to move on. They seemed in no hurry, though, and as the officer scanned the area slowly he stopped and focused on my position. I heard a few, low words in German, and one of the soldiers flicked on a torch, the beam focusing brightly on me and temporarily blinding me. With no way to escape I could only stand and wait for them, trying to breathe calmly as they started towards me.

"Civilian. You are out past curfew." The officer's French was basic and broken, a low, intimidating rumble that I could feel shudder down my spine. "Are you a thief? Show your papers."

It took a moment for me to react, flicking away the butt of my cigarette and pulling my fake identification papers from my pocket. They identified me as a Pierre Quemeneur, originally from the western coastal city of Nantes, still heavily populated with Bretons. That was my cover, to help explain the presence of a very Irish looking ginger with a strange accent in Paris. The officer took my papers with white gloved hands, holding the cigarette between his lips as he borrowed the soldier's torch and looked it over. The light spilling from the torch illuminated his features, and it distracted me from my worries for a dangerous moment. He was the poster boy for Aryan supremacy, with blue eyes and fair eyebrows that indicated the envied blond hair. He appeared in his early thirties, older than the boy soldiers that flanked him, and I couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed that someone so bloody good looking was part of an organization of such evil.

Then again... he had used one of the code words that our Source X had supplied for identification. Could the source really be a German officer, of the SS no less? Or was this the trap we had been afraid of? The small glass vial was warm but hard under my tongue, a vivid reminder of the danger I faced.

"Why are you here?" the officer asked, and wildly I tried to make a decision. If I didn't give the arranged reply, he wouldn't know that I was SOE. Would he take it merely as coincidence that I was here, at this spot at this time, as his correspondence had requested? Or was this simply a German patrol that would find any reason to interrogate me?"

"Well, thief?" his question, the call word, was hard and impatient this time, and I knew I couldn't stall. I swallowed hard, and answered in as fluid French as I could manage while feeling so on edge.

"I was simply stargazing, sir. Please forgive me. I will return home immediately." I used the arranged response. Had I just condemned myself?

The officer glanced at one of his soldiers, who spoke to him in German - translating, I supposed. He looked over me slowly, a slight frown on well shaped lips, and handed my papers back to me. "Come with us."

I tucked them away as the two soldiers flanked me, blocking any chance of escape. The officer walked in front, his boot heels in perfect gait against the stone, seemingly unconcerned as to my presence. Resisting the urge to tongue the glass in my mouth, I followed calmly as they lead me through the streets, finally taking me down an alley and into the back of what I supposed was once an office of sorts. Now it seemed to be a small interrogation centre. The inner room they took me into held two chairs and a table, and the soldiers followed the barked commands of the officer, pushing me down into a chair and cuffing my hands behind it. Sturmbannführer, they called him, the equivalent to Major in the British Army, which matched the embroidered patches on his collar. This was a trap, my every instinct told me, screaming at me to run, to somehow get away. But I was invested in this now, whether or not it lead to my demise.

To my surprise the officer ordered the two soldiers from the room, sitting down calmly in the chair on the other side of the table and watching them leave. Several moments passed in silence in which he merely stared at me, calm, but somehow seeming more and more foreboding by the second. Finally he pulled the box of cigarettes from the pocket of his long leather trench coat and lit one before turning to speak to me in a clear but heavily accented English. "Would you like one?"

I stared at him for a long moment, startled by his knowledge of the language and assumption that I also spoke it. I didn't bother with French when I replied. "No, I'm fine. Thanks. Who... are you?"

"It is better that you do not know that," he replied, tucking the box away and taking a long drag, "just as I do not wish to know anything about your organization. We will keep our chain of information as clean and without interference as possible, to minimize the risk should either of us be caught. Do you understand?"

"Of course," I managed to reply, still not entirely sure what to make of him.

He chuckled softly, ashing his cigarette into a small tray that sat on the table. "You seem rather startled. I cannot say that I blame you for this. I presume that a SS officer was the last person you expected to find here. But believe it or not, my intentions to help you are completely legitimate. I apologize for requesting your papers; I hope that you can understand that it was necessary. If you have the means to get another set with a different identity, I would recommend it. I do not wish to know you beyond our meetings and a few carefully arranged methods of communication. Is that clear?"

"Yes," I replied, still trying to get used to the idea. "Forgive me, but you speak very good English, Sturmbannführer."

"And you speak horrible German," he replied with a smirk. "I learned English as a child. The same, I presume, as you learned to speak French? But the details are not important. Are you willing to risk your safety to give the Allies a better chance of defeating Hitler?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," I replied, slowly beginning to accept that this was actually happening. "But I'm sure you can understand why it seems suspicious to have this offer coming from a high ranking officer in the SS. Why are you doing this?"

He stubbed out his cigarette, and laced his fingers together on the table. "A fair question, and I will tell you if you will first tell me your own motivation. Tell me what makes this war so personal for you that you would take such a risk to come and meet me."

I relaxed back against my chair, watching him, pondering the question. "Why is it personal? I spent my summers in Normandy when I was young, with my Uncle. I knew people there, good people. The kind of people that Hitler's Germany has been hunting down like rats."

"A girl?"

It was hard, even now, to remember Pierre. "Something like that, yes. And close friends. My Uncle tried to hide them and was found out. He disappeared as well."

"I see," he said quietly, accepting. He took off his uniform cap and set it on the table, staying silent for a long moment. "I have a brother, back in Frankfurt. My twin. He is both an intellectual and... a homosexual." He gave a little grim smile. "We hid that from the party, of course, and in a few cases I have bedded women in his disguise to support the charade. Thank god we are Aryan and less likely to draw suspicion due to our... perfection." The last word was said with a little bitter sneer. "My brother is quite accomplished in his field. He was made to go to work for the Nazis, for scientific war research." He looked up at me seriously. "Every day that passes I think on him and worry. If he is discovered... he will disappear into the night and fog, and I will never know what happened. There is nothing more I can do for him but help to end this war."

"I see," I said softly, a little surprised by his candidness, and the vulnerability and fear I could see under the strong facade built by the smart gray uniform and perfectly polished boots. "Then you understand another of my own motivations."

He nodded, though he didn't remark on my last revelation, and I wondered if I should just stay closeted after all. Forgiving homosexuality in someone close to him might not be the same as accepting it in a business partner. He stood and moved behind me to unlock the cuffs, and then drew the bolt on the inside of the door. I stretched, and feeling reasonably safe, spat the glass vial from my mouth and tucked it safely away in its box. He gave a small nod, knowing, but said nothing of it, sitting back down and lighting another cigarette.

"The High Command has caught on to your pigeons," he said seriously. "It is why I could not risk any more information through that means. They intend to send their own pigeon spies into France in an attempt to trick the French resistance into revealing names, with British cigarettes as proof of goodwill." He took a long drag of the cigarette and contemplated it for a moment. "I would suggest you spread word that they simply smoke the cigarettes and eat the birds."

The words drew a startled laugh from me, and he glanced over at me with an amused smile, which really only served to make him better looking. "The soldiers outside are leaving with a convoy of prisoners tomorrow," he told me. "When we leave this place tonight I will leave you with the means to escape it, and they will be none the wiser. We will arrange meetings every fourteen days or so, I will need you to arrange this with the SOE. I will give a different drop point for you to pass messages to me each time. Keep them simple and brief." He took a pen and folded piece of paper from the inside breast pocket of his jacket, writing something on it. "Is there a name that I can call you that no one else will use? One that will not link you to the British?"

"Larry," I replied without hesitation. It was taken from my middle name - my preferred name, truthfully, though everyone in the police and the SOE had insisted on using Francis. I hated the name and would have dropped it all together had it not been inherited from my grandfather.

"Larry," he repeated, and nodded, handing me the paper. "Laurence, to the French. Well, Larry, I will deal with you and only you, from now on. You may call me... Benjamin. Ben."  
_________

In the weeks that followed my arrival in Paris and meeting the man known to me as Ben, I settled quietly into my cover, working for a shopkeeper and his family on the edge of Le Marais. Out of all the districts in Paris, it was perhaps the most visibly effected by the war - previously home to many eastern European Jewish immigrants, many houses and storefronts simply stood empty. I tried not to think about it, to focus on quietly fitting in and not drawing attention to myself. The shopkeeper, Rene, was a member of the French Resistance and the section of the SOE controlled by the French. His wife Margaret and their daughter were kept very carefully ignorant of his involvement, but welcomed me as a distant cousin and new hire with open arms.

I met with my strange contact, Ben, every few weeks, with Rene quietly helping me to arrange private rooms in out of the way taverns that he could travel to without question. Paris was filled with the German military, so it was not unheard of for even an SS officer to take a drink on his own. Each time he gave me a deluge of information on the actions and plans of the German military, which I recorded half in coded notes and half in memory, later taking them to one of the SOE radio operators hidden in Paris to transmit back to England.

It was a little strange, to be sneaking around with a German officer. But I couldn't help but like him. There was something about Ben's focus and intensity that always left me fighting to remain focused on the work rather than his person, and I could see how he would make a strong and capable leader of men. Still, there was a softer side to him that I saw occasionally, the part that I'd seen when he'd told me about his brother. So, as strange as it was, I came to like the fact that he was my contact.

"Will you be stationed near the command station at Aulnay-sous-Bois at all this week?" I asked him one evening as we prepared to go our separate ways.

Ben looked at me sharply. "I hope you are not about to tell me anything that I should not know."

I shook my head. "Just stay clear of it, please." The French Resistance had planned a raid, bringing stolen explosives to try to destroy the building. I didn't want him there.

He regarded me for a long moment before giving a sharp nod. "Understood. Good night, Larry."

I didn't hear from Ben again for almost two weeks, though that wasn't abnormal. The attack on the command center was only partly successful, and a number of members of the resistance had been caught. I didn't give it a second thought, though I should have.

"Pierre?" Margaret greeted me with a smile as I came in to the shop one day, tying back her hair. "We just had flour delivered at the back; can you bring it out front? And a letter came for you. It's on the desk back there."

"Of course," I replied, wondering why there would have been something delivered to me here of all places. I snagged the letter off the receiving desk and paused, noticing that though it bore the fake name I used in Paris, and the address of the store, that it was without postmark. Hand delivered? I tore it open.

The message was brief, and in English.

Get out. Take this with you, and tell no one.  
Leave your papers under the loose cobblestone  
to the right of the back door.  
Go now. Do not tell the others. Do not go home.  
Do not come back. Stay away from the resistance.  
I will find you in two evenings at the tavern where  
we met last.  
\- Ben

I froze, staring at the note for a moment before remembering to breathe, my heart pounding with a surge of adrenaline. I glanced towards the front of the store where Margaret was, agonizing over whether or not to share the warning. She would be fine, surely. But if they were coming for Rene....

I stuffed the note into my pocket and slipped out the back, down the steps to the street. There was indeed a loose cobblestone to the right of the door, and I carefully tucked my identification underneath it, praying that I wouldn't be stopped by any German patrols or the police. Then I hurried back into the building. Perhaps there was still enough time to warn Rene, get him and the women out, and the Resistance could get them into hiding....

I opened the door to a flurry of noise - Margaret screaming, Rene's frantic pleading in French. "What are you doing? We haven't done anything wrong, you can't - "

There was a barked order in German, a familiar voice, and my heart stopped. I didn't wait to see how it would play out - without hesitation I darted down the steps and ran.

I managed to keep enough of my wits about me to keep to the back streets, slowing when I was a few blocks away from the store. It was strangely busy, for that area of Le Marais, and more than once I had to change directions or dart back between buildings to avoid troops of German soldiers. I didn't slow until I was far away from the store, deep into the half ghost town of abandoned houses that made up the Rue des Rosiers. It was one of the poorer areas of Le Marais, and had been peopled by low income factory workers, mostly for the textile plants. When the Germans had rounded up the Jews, there had been little use left for their houses but to be stripped of any useful possession and abandoned completely.

I carried most of my funds on me as a habit, which served me well now. I purchased a baked potato, bread and a cup of broth from a street vendor before breaking into one of the abandoned shacks to hide there for the rest of the day. I burned the message from Ben, and when night came, curled in a dry corner of the attic, huddled into my wool coat to keep warm in the chill of March. Difficult as it was to keep my mind from worrying about what might have happened, I finally fell asleep.

The next evening I made my way to the little tavern in an Inn at the base of Montmarte, just seedy enough that I didn't worry too much about them requesting my identity. When I paid for the rental of a room for the evening, I gave my name as Laurence without question. Then I took a seat in the corner, ordered a drink, and waited. I hadn't dared to approach any of my contacts in the SOE or the French Resistance, and I still had no idea why I had been ordered to hide.

Ben was in full uniform when he arrived a little more than half an hour later, and I watched the proprietor and half the occupants stiffen, watching him warily as he took a seat at a vacant table and ordered a drink. His eyes caught mine briefly as he scanned the room, but otherwise he made no noticeable indication of noticing me. I concentrated on my drink, arranging my fingers on the glass just so to signal the room number to him. Calmly, I finished the whiskey and made my way upstairs.

The rooms were small and run down, showing definite signs of roaches. I perched on the lumpy mattress and left the room's only chair for him, telling myself that I could wait a little longer for answers. Finally I heard a soft knock at the door, and opened it to let him in, barely taking the time to lock it before speaking. "Ben, what the hell is going on? Your note...."

He stayed standing, so I did as well, leaning back against the door, watching him. Ben set his hat on the bureau, suddenly seeming very tired. "I am sure that by now you have heard a little regarding the raid on the command station at Aulnay-sous-Bois by French Resistance members. The garrison was not forewarned to my knowing, but of the members of resistance, five were killed and three more captured. One died during interrogation. Another broke two days ago. He named your shopkeeper, and he named you."

I felt my mouth go dry. "He named Rene? What happened? Is he all right?"

Ben very carefully avoided looking at me, focusing instead on the room's only window. "Rene Gardier and his family were taken in for questioning yesterday morning, from their store. Pierre Quemeneur, a possible British spy, fled the scene. He was pursued by the SS Sturmbannführer in command, and was shot and killed when he resisted arrest."

I shook my head slowly. "You faked my death? Won't they be suspicious when there's no body?"

Ben's gaze didn't move from the window. "There is a body."

For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. "You... you shot some poor bloke so they'd think I was dead."

His jaw clenched, lips shifting against each other, and when he spoke again, his voice was strangely hollow. "I did what was necessary to keep you safe."

"But an innocent man - "

His attention jerked back to me. "And how many more innocent men will die if we cannot complete the work that we are doing? How many women and children? I will not sacrifice everything I have worked for. I will not sacrifice you."

I sank down weakly onto the bed, my mind reeling with the knowledge, hardly knowing how to respond. "I - I can't have people die because of me. It's too much. It's my fault he's dead, and I could have warned Rene, and I - "

A strong hand caught my chin suddenly forcing me to look at him, blue eyes determined and intent."Larry. This is not your fault. If you think I like what I have to do, or have a choice in the matter, you are wrong. If you think that I do not think of my brother with every person who dies or is sent away under my command, you are wrong. And if I could give my life today and be certain that it would end this war, I would do so, but that is not how things are. What you and I are doing is more important than any single life. You know that."

I managed a nod, letting out breath in a trembling sigh, and watched him soften, his voice lowering as his fingers released my jaw, brushing softly against my skin. Though unintentional, the gentleness of his touch reassured me more than anything else he could say. "Larry. Tell me again why you are here."

I closed my eyes for a moment, a shiver running through me at the remembering. Pierre's voice, his smile, the awkward, laughing first kiss shared by the lighthouse when I was barely sixteen. Making love, growing up, spending each summer in his arms. Making him promise to join me in London when he'd finished university. It was a promise he hadn't been able to keep. "I'm here for someone that I loved, who was sweet and kind and generous, who was killed just for being what they were, just for being human. For the people I saw die around me in London from the bombs. For people who can't fight for themselves." I looked up at him. "But I don't have a living reason to do this, not like you. If I die, it affects no one but me."

I saw sorrow flit across Ben's face, briefly, before being schooled away into that calm strength. "It affects me. I need you. I cannot do this without you. If you die, this whole thing dies along with you. You know this, yes?"

I swallowed hard, and nodded. I knew it was the mission he needed, the link to the radio operators hidden in Paris, but I couldn't help but feel a soft reassurance at his words. He trusted me to do this work, and to keep his secret safe. "Yes. I - I'm sorry. I won't let you down, Ben."

"No apology required. I know that you will do your best." He turned and took the chair finally, watching me intently. "Tell me. Do you know enough about the resistance that you can enlist their help if needed without revealing yourself? Without giving them your name?"

I considered the question. Though many members of the resistance were inter-related, it was preferred to stay as anonymous and disconnected as possible, to avoid incidents like this morning. So there were still identification words, codes that could be used to enlist the simplest of aid. "I think so, but I need them to help me get another identity, find a safe place to stay...."

Ben shook his head, pulling a bundle of papers from one pocket of his trench coat, and a billfold from the other, handing both to me. There was a new carte d'identité des Français with my picture - the photo from my missing papers, I realized. It listed my name as Henri Morvan. The rest of the papers were proof of lineage, deeds to a property, and letters from a lawyer.... "What is all of this? How did you set this up?"

"It is not fake," he replied, glancing away. "Merely stolen. No one in France will know that you are not the face that belongs to this name. He has inherited a furniture shop along the rue du faubourg Saint-Antoine, in north Le Marais. Hire a shop girl to run the business and rent an apartment that I do not know about. I will contact you through the shop to arrange our next meeting."

"All right," I said softly, tucking it all away. "Ben... thank you for protecting me."

He merely gave a sharp nod in acknowledgement. "Do not give your new identity to the SOE or reveal yourself to the resistance if you can help it. We cannot risk this happening again when it may not be possible for me to interfere."

"Of course. Ben... Rene and his family...."

"I will see what I can do to have the women released," he said softly. "You know that I cannot do anything about Rene."

"I know," I replied. "Thank you."

Ben smiled then, warm and breathtakingly handsome. He reached across the space between us to pat my hand, his touch warm and reassuring, however brief. "I have information for you, if you can take it."

"Of course," I replied, strangely strengthened by the touch. "Let's get to work."  
______

 

After I assumed my new identity, my meetings with Ben continued, and were thankfully fairly uneventful. We began to meet a little more frequently, though rarely in the same place twice, and he would quickly and quietly relay a flurry of information to me about the plans and movements of the German army, both in France and elsewhere. I wondered a little that he would have access to such information, but resisted the urge to ask questions that might lead to me knowing more than I should about his real identity. I kept myself and my cover identity away from the resistance for the most part, though I still had contact with a few of the radio operators of the SOE Physician unit, and would transmit the information I had obtained back to Britain a day or two after each meeting.

I found it was much easier to play at being a shop keeper, and stay out of the public eye. I took the lawyers recommendation on finding a local lass to run things, and found one who was sweet and a little plain and kept the books neat as a pin. I checked in and did a little work, approved acquisitions, and after that generally stayed out of her way.

At nights, alone in my small apartment, my thoughts were drawn more and more to blue eyes, a low, rich voice, and to well shaped lips that favoured me with the occasional, longed for, smile. It wasn't the wisest thing I'd ever done, but I could hardly help the reactions of my own body, could I? Everything that I was doing here revolved around this handsome man who I called Ben. Far too handsome for me to ignore it.  
It was far too easy to close my eyes in the dead of night and imagine those capable hands on my body instead of my own.

We were meeting in the owner's room above a tavern one night at the beginning of April when I heard the sound of footsteps running up the stairs outside the door. I stood immediately, grabbing the papers that I had been making coded notes on and started quickly toward the fireplace, ready to destroy them. The tavern owners and a few of the workers were members of the French Resistance, and I had identified myself to them enough that they were aware of the purpose of the meeting and the need for secrecy. It was one of these who darted in the door, a pretty young waitress named Genevieve. "There is a search. Get into the closet. I'll cover for you."

I threw the papers on the fire as Ben swept up his long coat and slipped into it, opening the door that Genevieve had indicated and disappearing inside. I followed him, pulling the bagged garments that hung from the bar back into place once we'd passed them. I could hear the door open seconds later, and felt Ben stiffen at the hard tones in German that came from whoever had entered. Genevieve answered softly, in the broken German that many Parisians had picked up, and before long the soldier's voice had softened. I didn't need to understand the language to know how she had distracted him.

The closet was deep enough to hold extra storage behind the hanging garment bags. They were long, and I could only pray that that they would keep us from notice if the door was opened. It was narrow, though, so much so that I had to lean back against the wall to keep my hips from brushing his. I tried not to think about my handsome contact, and the very high possibility of this becoming very awkward very quickly. Instead I kept my eyes focused on the crack of light that seeped through the top of the closet door, willing my heart to stop pounding so loudly.

It would have been easier, if there'd been something else going on in the room outside, something to listen to, focus on. I let my head rest against the wall behind me, going over the information we'd discussed and putting it to memory, trying to block out the groans of pleasure from the German soldier and Genevieve's giggled, moaning encouragements, half in French and half in German. Ben, thankfully, was still.

Eventually I heard them finish, the soldier dressing and speaking to Genevieve in a low voice. I heard the door to the room close, and went to move, only to have Ben's hand catch my wrist, holding me firm.

"He is returning," he murmured, voice a barely audible rumble. "With a friend. I am afraid we will be here for a while."

Sure enough, I heard Genevieve's soft French outside the closet door, explaining the same thing. "I will lock you in here, and hide the key, just to be safe. If something happens to me, Jeremie will come to find the key and release you before the night is done."

"Merci," I replied, trying to focus on the sound of the key in the lock, and not the warmth and strength of his fingers on my wrist. Not the fact that he hadn't let go of me. Finally I chanced to look at him, his features just visible in the darkness, and found him watching me with an even, thoughtful expression. I wet my lips, noticing how his eyes darted to them momentarily as I did, and took a chance.

"How alike are you and your brother?" I whispered, and his eyes widened slightly. Before he could answer, however, we heard the sound of boots on the stairs - two pairs by the sound of it, followed by a hushed discussion. Bartering for a price, I realized, and felt a little sorry for Genevieve. I was distracted by Ben's grip on my arm, however, which had relaxed, allowing his thumb to smooth slowly up and down the inside of my wrist.

That was enough of an answer for me.

Moving slowly, I brought my free hand up to rest against the wall by his head, leaning forward to close the small gap between us until I could feel the heat that radiated from him, the brush of his jacket against my thigh. I felt him tense as I let my lips rest against the skin by his ear, speaking so softly that my words were hardly more than a breath. "My childhood lover in Normandy was not taken because he was Jewish," I breathed. "This is my motivation. To protect what I am, those who are like me... like your brother."

Ben's soft sigh was warm on my skin, free hand moving to cup my hip, shifting slightly, ever so slowly, to nuzzle my jaw. Suddenly, this stopped being about the war, about hiding and running and living in fear. It stopped being about nationalities and loyalties. We were simply two people who had come to trust each other despite all odds, two people who were very alone in a dangerous world.

I let myself return the caress, trailing slow, silent kisses along his jaw. When I finally caught his mouth with my own, the sense of relief and desire was almost overwhelming. I felt him shudder and press closer to me, hand clenching hard at my hip as he returned the kiss. The hand on my wrist released it finally to stroke almost restlessly over my side then catch in the back of my shirt, clenching hard and pulling me more firmly against him. Ben's lips parted eagerly to mine, tongue flicking against my lips, and I let him taste me, eager and demanding and tasting of coffee and strong German cigarettes. I hadn't been free to do this to do this since before I'd left England. Even if there were gay men left in France, none of them would risk a hook up with someone they didn't know, not with the Nazis still hunting them. And if it had been that long for me, how much longer had it been for him?

I nipped at his bottom lip, trying to keep my breath calm and measured, slipping my fingers into his hair as I let my other hand stroke up his bicep, brushing against the military armband before smoothing over his chest. It wasn't perhaps the most ideal circumstance, but a small corner of my mind pointed out that if I was going to be caught by Nazis, I might as well go out fucking, because I was dead either way. Still, the need for silence and secrecy was a heady weight in my mind as I kissed him again and again, fingers stroking through short cropped hair, his hands almost kneading at my hip and back. His kisses were almost desperately hungry, all but devouring my mouth with his lips and tongue and teeth, his passion leaving me more than a little weak in the knees and not so weak in other areas. I couldn't keep myself from thinking about what he'd look like underneath me flushed with passion and clothes dishevelled, crying out as I drove into that perfect body. Or how he'd groan if I straddled his hips and took the beautiful erection that I could feel pressed against my thigh up inside myself, riding him hard until he spilled inside me. God, I'd ravish this man any which way that he'd have me.

Ben drew a sharp breath as I broke from his mouth, and I slipped a hand over it, nuzzling his hair and breathing softly, "Shhh." Then I started trailing kisses down his throat, my other hand finding and loosening his tie, tugging the top button of his shirt undone to let me nose under the collar of his shirt and suck at the crook of his neck. His hand slipped to tangle in my hair, body arching, almost grinding against me. I tried to force myself to stay calm, to take my time with this and give him any opportunity he needed to stop me. The taste of his skin was heady, salty sweet as I covered as much of it as I could with kisses, trying not to lose control and mark him. The back of his neck smelled of leather and cologne, and I breathed in deeply, feeling my cock harden more in my trousers and rocking back against him. Ben's lips moved hungrily against the palm of my hand, kissing and licking at my skin, and I couldn't help but wonder what that mouth would feel like elsewhere.

I groped for the buttons on his jacket in the dark, tugging them undone until I reached the black leather belt on his uniform. I reclaimed my other hand to slide it undone silently, glancing up to see him biting at his bottom lip as he watched me, jerking tense as I slid a hand down to cup him though his trousers. I leaned in to kiss and nip at his earlobe, sucking wetly at it as I carefully tugged his trousers undone, slipping a hand down inside to curl around his erection. Ben's hands clenched almost painfully hard at my shoulders, his breath coming hard against my neck. He rocked up into my touch a little as I palmed him gently, shifting despite the awkward angle to stroke my thumb over the head of his cock, already wet with arousal.

I heard him choke, and a hand slipped down to grip my wrist hard, tugging it away from him. He leaned in to press his lips below my ear, breathless. "They will discover us."

"It'll be fine...."

He gave a little shake of his head. "I cannot stay quiet." He hesitated, and then smoothed a hand down my stomach, cupping my erection through my clothes as he covered my mouth with his. In no time at all my suspenders had been unclipped and my trousers and undershorts were around my thighs, his hand curled around me, stroking me firmly, fingers slick with my arousal. I let my head fall back against the wall, shuddering as his mouth found my throat, nipping and sucking on the skin, kissing down my chest. Before I could stop him he was on his knees in front of me, lips parting over the head of my cock, warm and wet and achingly good.

I clenched hard at Ben's shoulders, every muscle in my body tense, willing myself to keep still, to keep silent. I couldn't help but wonder if my assessment of how long it had been was completely wrong just from the skill of his mouth as he sucked me, tongue working against me just so as his fingers stroked the base of my cock. The noises outside were almost obscene, and I wanted so badly to make him moan like that, to feel him shudder against me, to feel his climax spill slick on my skin. His mouth quickly pulled all thoughts of that - or anything else - from my mind, leaving me lost to everything but his heat, the tease of his tongue, and the vivid need to stay quiet.

My thighs were near trembling from the pleasure of it all, the hot pulses of sensation he wrung from my body. Ben's free hand stroked over one gently, reassuringly, before he cupped my balls, massaging gently, knuckles pressing into the sensitive skin just behind them. I had to press the heel of my hand hard to my mouth, biting down to keep from crying out, shuddering with the need to come. He seemed to sense my desperation, taking more of my cock in his mouth until I could feel the head nudge the back of his throat. My hand tightened on his shoulder, hard, to warn him of the passion I could feel building fast, but he simply moved a hand to return the squeeze reassuringly to my thigh, continuing to pleasure me. I swallowed down a cry, forcing myself not to breathe, not to think as shudders of bliss cascaded through me, his mouth drawing me gently through the shocks of climax, not moving back until I'd started to calm. Then he eased back onto his heels and let his forehead fall against my thigh, breath hot on my skin.

I didn't try to move, leaving my eyes closed as I tried to catch my breath. I became aware that it had grown silent in the room, and for a panicked moment I worried that I'd made some noise to alert them. Thankfully I heard the sound of boots moving towards the hall, and Genevieve's sweet voice in German, the door closing behind them as they left.

I swallowed hard, speaking as low as I could. "Let me help you up."

I felt him nod, his hands moving to carefully pull my trousers back into place and fasten them. It took a bit of manoeuvring to get him back on his feet in the cramped space, but once he was I moved forward to nuzzle his jaw. "Thank you...."

He gave another little nod, doing up his trousers and jacket silently, and I began to worry about the repercussions of what I'd done.

We heard the door open and both tensed, but it was only a single pair of light footsteps this time. I heard a few things move, then a voice at the closet door, in French. "Monsieur? It's Jeremie."

The door unlocked, and I pushed back the clothes on my side of the closet to see him, smiling. "Merci. Is Genevieve...?"

"She is entertaining," he said simply, a little coldly, and handed me another key. "The room on the right at the end of the hall is a bedroom for patrons. They have searched those rooms already, so no one will bother you there. Just avoid being seen together. I'm very sorry."

"Thank you," I said softly again, clasping his hand gently and slipping out of the closet as Jeremie left the room. I glanced back at Ben, who seemed flustered apart from the carefully schooled expression. I repeated the boy's instructions in English for him. "Come with me? Or we can finish speaking another time, if you wish...."

He shook his head. "No. Now is fine."

"All right. I'll go first, then. Follow me in two minutes." The upstairs of the tavern was empty from what I could see, quiet apart from the muffled music from the first floor. It was highly unlikely that anyone in a room this early in the evening would be here for any reason other than sex or shady dealings, but it I made certain to keep completely alert as I made my way down the hall, unlocked the door and slipped inside. A few minutes later I heard a light knock, and opened the door to let him in. I leaned back against the closed door, letting out a long breath and watching him pace the length of the small room restlessly, running one hand through his short cropped hair. I caught his gaze as he turned back to me, speaking softly. "I'm sorry."

Ben lowered his eyes. "You have not done anything wrong. Nothing that I would regret in a time of peace."

In a time of peace. I breathed a long sigh, dropping my eyes to the floor as well. "I've still behaved inappropriately, and presumptuously."

"You did not presume anything that was not the truth," he replied, moving to stand in front of me and catching my chin, guiding it to look up at him. "I bed women because it is safe, not because it is what I want. There is very little difference between my brother and I on that count."

I gave a slow nod. "Would you like me to find someone else for you to report to?"

Ben's expression hardened slightly and he glanced away. "I will not speak to anyone but you. Do I repulse you that much?"

I reached up to grab the front of his uniform, pressing my lips to his, hard, telling him with my body so much more than I could with words. "Every little thing I learn of you, every time I see you only makes you more endearing in my eyes. I wouldn't have kissed you if I felt any other way."

He relaxed a little, shivering under my touch as I reached down and stroked my hand slowly up the outside of his thigh. "We cannot continue this. It is too dangerous."

I cupped his cheek with a gentle hand, drawing his gaze up to mine. "How is this any more dangerous than what we're already doing? Ben. Tell me something..." I traced my fingers over the insignia on his collar, the four silver pips that denoted rank. "They say that it isn't unheard of for high ranking officials in the SS to have certain... habits. Ones where people will look the other way, because of their rank. So... tell me, Sturmbannführer. How valuable are you?"

Ben glanced away again. "I am not certain. I have never thought to test it."

"All right." I wet my lips. "Think about it this way. If they catch you giving information to the Allies, what will they do to you?"

His eyes narrowed. "You know very well what will happen. They will interrogate you until you break, and then execute you. If they do not shoot me on sight, they will transport me back to Berlin and make an example of my painful execution for treason. I will be stripped of my rank and all benefits. Quite possibly my brother will come under scrutiny, and also be interrogated."

I nodded slowly. "And if they caught you having sex with a man, a civilian man... and decided you were not valuable enough to look the other way... what would they do to you?"

Ben's lips pressed together, silent for a long moment as he looked at me. Then he swallowed. "They would shoot my lover on sight. I would be sent to a concentration camp. Both the guards and prisoners would tear me apart. They do not look well on members of the SS who are revealed to be schwul." He stopped, lips shifting against each other, and swallowed. "But they would not suspect my brother of ties to treason. And it is unlikely they would suspect you of being a spy."

"Well," I said softly, slipping my arms up around his neck and leaning in to press my lips to his jaw. "I think it's in both of our best interests for you to fuck me, then. We exchange information in bed only, from now on. You set up the arrangements, just as you would for any other lover. I will give you a few different ways to contact me. I will come when you do." I felt him shiver against me, and nuzzled his skin. "I'm not just saying this. I want you to."

He didn't answer, but pressed me back up against the door suddenly, catching my mouth with the same hunger and longing that I'd felt in the closet. I groaned into his mouth, fingers moving to tug open his belt and the buttons of his jacket, pushing both it and his long trench coat off his shoulders. He pulled back just enough to slip out of them, tossing them both over the room's only chair. Then he was kissing me again, fingers tugging open the buttons on my shirt, pulling off my jacket and yanking the bands of my suspenders down my arms before pulling my shirt off. The feel of broad hands rubbing over my chest and biceps was almost maddening, and I caught his ass in both hands to pull him closer. I could feel him, still hard against me, and he gave a shuddering sigh against my mouth. "Been so long...."

I managed a nod, fingers making short work of the buttons on his shirt before attacking the tie. He pushed my hands away with a soft chuckle, loosening it and pulling it over his head. His eyes were dark as he looked me over. "Are you certain that you want this?"

I nodded again, stepping forward to undo his slacks, letting my fingers brush against his erection through the smooth grey fabric. "Yes. You have anything that can be used for lubrication? If not, I'll suck you off."

"Lubrication," he repeated, pausing for a moment as if the word was unfamiliar before giving a sharp nod of understanding and tugging at my trousers.

We didn't waste time, pushing the rest of each other's clothes off without caring where they fell. The room's bed was narrow, but more than wide enough for him to push me down under him, mouth hot on my neck, shuddering as I smoothed my hands down his ass, clenching at it and pulling him closer. Ben was perfect, softly defined muscles firm under my hands as I stroked as much of him as I could reach.

He'd grabbed something out of one of the pockets of his trench coat, and as he urged my thighs up and apart, I caught a whiff of metallic - gun oil? "Inventive," I murmured, drawing a sharp breath as I felt his fingers press against my ass, stroking slow and slick against me before one eased into me. He chuckled softly, kissing further down my chest to swirl his tongue around my nipple, working his finger in me with remarkable patience before slowly easing in another, teasing and stretching me. It was intense, and though I doubted my body could perform again I more than appreciated his attentions, sending warm waves of pleasure through me. Then Ben's fingers twisted inside me just so, fingertips brushing up against my sweet spot, and I cried out at the hot spike of sensation that it sent through me, blood rushing to my reawakened cock. "Oh god, yes."

Ben continued to work his fingers in me, stretching me, moving down to cover my cock in slow licks. His affections quickly brought me back to full attention, breathless and trying to encourage more, writhing against him. His fingers brushed against my sweet spot again, my hips jerking at the pulse of sensation, leaving me feeling almost mindless with the need for more. I couldn't resist the urge to watch him, his lips parted around my cock as he sucked me gently, blonde eyelashes on closed eyelids fluttering against his cheek. He looked up as if he sensed my gaze, a dark hunger in his blue eyes that made me shiver. "May I?"

Unfailingly polite. I barely managed a nod, moving to settle on my hands and knees and sighing at the tender press of his lips to the small of my back. Ben caught my hips, pulling me back just a little toward him, and I felt the press of the head of his cock against me, slowly taking me, a mix of pleasure and ache shuddering through me as he easing past the ring of ring of muscle. He was thick, a wonderful, perfect girth that filled me just right as he slowly rocked deeper. The press of his cock felt amazing despite of the ache of my body trying to adjust to him. I shivered, hearing his breath come in little helpless, choked moans, a soft exclamation in German. He sounded almost incredulous as sheathed himself entirely, staying still for just a moment before pulling back and starting to move, thrusting deep into me, slow but unrelenting.

"Yes," I gasped, trying to press back, to encourage more. The ache had faded quickly as our bodies began to move together, and I could concentrate on the feel of him, hot and hard and thick inside me. Ben's hands tightened on my hips, however, controlling my every move. It was maddening, and more arousing than I would have expected. "More. Oh god, harder, please!"

I received a throaty groan in reply along with a buck of his hips, hands clenching harder on me briefly before he seemed to regain his self-control and continue. I wanted it, though, wanted to drive him to madness with my body, so I let myself rest on my forearms and fought against his hold on me, trying to writhe back onto his cock, to encourage him. "God, Ben, please, more... you feel so good, so damn good. You're so big, god!"

Ben leaned over me to press his lips to my shoulder, hips bucking into me with a shuddering, helpless groan. "So good," he whispered, letting go of my hips to lean on a hand beside my head. Ben's breath was hot on my skin, and he moved a hand to curl around my cock and stroke me firmly as his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic. I let myself clench around him, just for a moment, drunk on the way it made him cry out and pound harder into me, his cock just brushing against that point inside me that flooded me with pleasure.

There was no way we could have remained undiscovered in the closet through this, between his husky, shuddering moans and the cries of pleasure that he pulled from my lips with each thrust. I couldn't help but whimper his name, hearing my own gasped between bits of German before his mouth found the crook of my neck, biting down hard. The lick of pain broke the remains of my control, and I bucked back against him, clenching and shuddering around him as he pulled me to another climax. Ben's voice caught in his throat, rough and helpless, pumping into me through the intensity of my climax, and I felt him grow warmer, a rush of heat as he spilled slick inside me. "Larry - god!"

My thighs were trembling again, but I didn't want to move, didn't want to think on anything but the feeling of his weight pressed over me and his breath in warm pants against my skin. Finally he pulled back, stretching out on the mattress against the wall, and I eased down to the bed regardless of the sticky mess, looking over at him with a little smile.

Ben seemed uncertain, but relaxed a little at my smile and returned it. He started to speak softly about the battlements around Paris and the reinforcements that were coming, where we'd left off before we were interrupted.

Exhausted as I was, his words only went in one ear and out the other. I worked up the energy to shift closer to him, finding his hand between us on the bed and twining my fingers with his, regardless of the slight slick of my climax on his skin. His words fell to nothing, a look of surprise crossing his face at my touch. Then he smiled, his free hand reaching up to stroke through my hair.

"What are things like for you in England?" he asked softly, the caress of his strong fingers strangely tender. "They would have us believe that it is a den of sin and debauchery. Are men free to love like this?"

I wet my lips, glancing away. "It... people don't talk about it. In general, it's frowned upon. And some people use fear and hatred as an excuse to hurt what they do not understand. But we are not hunted and murdered because of what we are, and there are places where we can meet, to talk and find love and companionship."

He listened to my words thoughtfully, giving a slow nod. "I would feel much safer, with that kind of world for my brother. Have you had many lovers?"

"A few," I admitted, though none of them had been serious since the beginning of the war. Since Pierre disappeared. "You?"

He glanced away, silent for a moment, and I couldn't read the strange expression in his eyes. "Only one," he said finally. "There was only one I could trust enough not to betray me. And now, you."

I found myself smiling, and squeezed his hand gently. "I'm honoured."

He gave a little shrug, still smiling. "You have earned it."

______

I can't pretend that the rest of my time in Paris was easy. The lodging house where I had lived before my unplanned change of identity was completely destroyed in an Allied air raid targeting a nearby railroad marshalling yard, another what if that could have ended in my death. Short on funds, I sold the little furniture shop that I had falsely inherited to a member of the French bourgeoisie, who were among the few who still had money in Paris. There was no profit to be made in it, and I was more invisible performing casual labour, moving from job to job without ever getting to know anyone. Half the time I sported a neatly trimmed beard out of necessity - it helped me to blend in, and shaving cream was in short supply.

One of the radio operators I was dealing with was captured, and only Ben's assurances that she hadn't broken and named me kept me from the fear of discovery. I had to wonder; if he hadn't been my source, would have unknowingly stumbled into a trap when I tried to contact her, as two others did? Once again, he had saved me.

Being intimate with him was a saving grace all on its own. Ben was a more than attentive lover, and being with him made my heart sing when everything else seemed dark. I kept to myself, unable and unwilling to risk even friendships with others. He alone gave me the strength to keep up my charade, and a couple of times we managed to spend a whole night together. He brought me things at our meetings as well - a few extra food tickets, boxes of the heavy German cigarettes that I had by necessity acquired a taste for and which could also be traded on the black market. And soap, thank god, of which the Germans had small stores and the French had very little. That I could trade as well, cutting off small slivers to keep for myself. Our meetings had grown rather longer over time, and I treasured every minute. More than once I when arrived for one - a rendezvous, as he took to calling them with a little smile, - to find the location a quietly upscale inn, with a hot bath drawn and waiting.

Occasionally he joined me in that, too. I remember meeting one rainy day in April, settling into a claw foot tub with him, leaning back against his chest and simply relaxing to the gentle caress of his fingers on my skin as the steaming water slowly cooled around us.

"Not that I'm complaining," I started slowly, turning my head and arching up to nuzzle his neck, "But this seems a bit much, doesn't it?"

His fingers paused, and I felt his lips press to my wet hair. "There are many officers who keep women on the side in Paris. Sometimes more than one. It would be suspicious of me to be having an affair and to not take advantage of my rank to make things more comfortable for you." He paused for a moment. "And in that regard, it would be suspicious of me not to be having an affair, so it seems that all of this is for the best."

"But I can't be a pretty French woman on your arm," I replied with a frown, but shivered as I felt his fingers slip into the water and down my stomach, teasing the base of my cock.

"Mmm. This is true," he murmured, his breath warm on my skin as he nuzzled my ear. His fingers curled around my quickly hardening cock, stroking slowly. "And I am very, very glad of that."

I turned over in the bath, kneeling between his thighs, and leaned in to catch his mouth in a hungry kiss. "Then I'm glad I have you to take care of me," I told him, and proceeded to show him just how much I appreciated it.

 

In Ben's case, the ruse - or not quite a ruse - that we were lovers proved just as much a saving grace. He came to me one hot summer evening more than a little shaken, pulling me into his arms and pressing his face to my hair without even removing his jacket.

I pressed my lips to his hair, stroking fingers over the back of his uniform. "Are you all right?"

He was silent for a long moment, but I could feel his fingers clench in the back of my shirt. "My Obersturmführer - my assistant - was executed yesterday," he said finally. "No trial. They simply shot him. Officially they said that he was found assisting enemies of the state."

I tightened my arms around him a little. "And unofficially?"

"Gruppenführer Oberg told me..." he swallowed hard. "I was told to be more discreet with my dalliances, considering their... nature." He gave a short, weak laugh. "I suppose it answers the question of my importance, at least in his eyes. Better to kill the man who found out about me than to send me away."

I drew back at that. "Oberg?" Carl Oberg was the highest authority for Germany in France. "Why would Oberg care enough to cover for you?"

Ben's eyebrows rose slightly, and he stared at me for a long moment. "Do you truly not know what I do?"

"I've tried very hard to avoid knowing anything about you," I replied, glancing away. "Like you asked me to. The less I know, the less of a danger I am to you."

He managed a little half smile, reaching up to run his thumb along my jaw, affectionate. "You did not think of how I had access to much of the information I give you? I am his senior most staff member in Paris. Most of the people who report to him do so through me."

"Oh," I managed to reply, staring. It made sense, I supposed, but I'd never stopped to wonder exactly what it was he did. Perhaps I simply did not want to know. He seemed to sense how shocked I was, and let his hand rest on my shoulder, stroking the base of my neck gently.

"I do not enjoy what I have to do, to survive. I took this assignment because of the information it would give me. And for every member of the resistance who has been caught and tortured, another has escaped because my men were a little too late, or looked in the wrong place. If I could save them all and end the war, I would. But what you and I are doing now is what will end things. It is why I took the risk to contact the Allies, why I invited you here."

I nodded numbly. "People talk about the Allies landing in France, taking Normandy... that they're finally trying to take back Europe."

Ben nodded. "It is true. And you know that our information helped that. If nothing else, the risk you have taken is worth it. Eventually the killing will end." He glanced away at that, lips tightening against each other in a way that I'd learned was his biggest tell of emotion.

I stroked my fingers through his hair. "Are you all right?"

"I... I am all right." He sighed, leaning into my touch a little. "He was a good soldier, my Obersturmführer. With a pretty little wife and a twelve year old boy. He was doing what he believed to be right."

"Then we will make a world where no one can believe that hating someone because of race or nationality or who they love is right." I pressed my lips to his temple, feeling him relax against me. Gentle, comforting touch progressed into warm kisses, and I drew him into bed with me, hoping that I could drive away some of the darkness for him, too.

________

We met in the little room over a cafe half way through August, the faint scent of coffee wafting up from downstairs. Rumours of the approaching Allied forces had brought out a strange energy in Paris, and all over the city people seemed to be holding their breath for the occupation to end. Food supplies - like the coffee - that had been secreted away in the shortages suddenly made an appearance. Even the police were threatening to strike just to make things more difficult for the Germans.

I arrived a little before the time we'd arranged to meet, pulling the curtains carefully and turning down the lamp. As the arrival time came and went, I began to worry more than usual that something had happened. With Paris so unstable, there was no reason for a member of the French resistance to know that he was anything more than another German officer. An easy target. When I finally heard footsteps on the back stairs, they were a little lighter than normal, and I opened the door to find Ben in civilian clothes, looking almost French in a black beret. I gave a sigh of relief, opening the door wider. "Thank god. Come in. Did you have any trouble getting here?"

Ben shook his head, closing the door behind him. "There is much to be said about keeping your eyes down and your mouth shut." He walked past me into the room, setting the beret down on the room's small table, but didn't sit. "I am afraid that I do not have much to tell you," he said, uncharacteristically quiet. "The Allies have all but taken France and are advancing on Paris, so you know that the tide is shifting. All I know of Choltitz - the new military governor - is that he has been ordered to destroy as much of Paris as he can. I have no doubt that he will do so. The man is exceptionally ruthless."

I crossed the room to perch on the table top, giving him a small nod. "All right. Do you know what he has planned? Will the concentration of forces change?"

Ben held my questioning gaze calmly for a long moment before looking away in sorrow. "I have been transferred into the Waffen SS, and my command leaves in two days. Day after tomorrow. So I am no longer a party to details about the war effort in Paris."

It took me a moment to realize that I'd stopped breathing, and that my heart had turned to ice along with the rest of me. I drew a sharp breath. "Two days."

"Yes," he said softly, and reached out to place his hand over mine on the table. "I'm sorry, Larry."

I closed my eyes against the rush of panic, of sorrow. We'd spent so long and survived against so many odds; how could things end like this? If he was in Paris I could use my contacts to get him underground long enough for the allied forces to strip out the remains of the German army. I could keep him safe, and at the very least have him protected under the Geneva Prisoner of War conventions until he could be recognized for his service to England. I swallowed hard. "You can't stay? Disappear into Paris and let them assume that the resistance got you? I can help you - "

"Perhaps if I was just an enlisted man," Ben replied, eyes focused on my hand under his."My men could not move out if the matter of my disappearance was in question. And the German army is not so weak yet that they would let the disappearance of an officer go without investigation. Oberg would not let me disappear." His hand tightened on mine a little, voice breaking as he spoke again. "I'm so very sorry."

I rounded the table and pulled him to me, catching his mouth almost desperately, needing to be close to him. He was right, I knew, and I hated it. "Come to bed with me," I whispered, and he managed a nod.

I tried not to think about it as I tugged at his clothes with trembling fingers or as we tumbled into bed. His kisses and touches were hard and searing and mine were no gentler, needing to feel as much and as intensely as I could. The thought of never seeing him again was a vice that clenched painfully around my heart, slowly tightening even as I kissed him, pressing him onto his back and trying to memorize his form with my mouth and hands. It wasn't enough; it could never be enough, despite his scent all around me, despite the taste of his skin. I couldn't hold back my desire or stop myself from being more rough than I should, nipping at his neck, biting hard at the muscle that joined neck to shoulder.

Ben's fingers tangled tight in my hair, shuddering at the feel of my teeth and rocking up against me. "More," he gasped, free hand clenching almost painfully on my hip. He kept my body tight against his, legs tangled, both of us hard and aching. I answered his plea without hesitation, leaving pink kiss bruises along his shoulder and biting at his collarbone.

"I don't want you to leave," I gasped, and the hand in my hair tightened, pulling my mouth to his for a desperate, yearning kiss.

"I don't want to go," he replied, hardly louder than a whisper, shuddering against me as he did.

When we finally coupled it was with me on my back, knees spread and pressed almost to my chest, my arms tight around his shoulders. He gave a shivering groan as he pushed into me, forehead resting against mine, our breath and sounds of pleasure mingling and combining as our bodies did. I arched up against him as much as I could, catching his mouth for blistering kisses, gasping pleas for more sensation against his lips. His thrusts were hard and unrelenting and exactly what I needed, making my body ache with pleasure as he drove into me over and over. I needed this intensity, needed to engrave the memory of him onto my body, the feel of him pressed so close to me.

He let his head fall to the pillow beside me as the pleasure built, gasping my name helplessly against my skin with his hands clenched at my shoulders. Each thrust added to the turmoil of pleasure and helplessness, the ache of what was to come, and when I finally came I couldn't hold back the tears that escaped from under lashes squeezed shut. His name was a broken cry from my lips as my body was overcome with the kind of pleasure I never should have gained from him, a bright hot intensity that rivalled the clench of pain in my heart.

For a long time after, we simply held close to each other without moving, his face pressed to my neck and my legs still wrapped around him. I could feel him shivering against me - or was that just me? - and one hand slipped into my hair, stroking over and over. His kisses were warm and gentle when he finally pulled back, slipping from my body, lips not leaving mine as he curled on his side next to me, fingers stroking over my hair, the back of my neck, my spine.

"Tell me your name," I said softly. "Give me some way to find you after this is all done, somehow."

He glanced down between us, finding my hand with his own and twining our fingers together. "You really think that either of us will survive this? Choltitz will burn Paris to the ground if he can. He will kill and destroy until he can no longer fight. And when the Allies take Germany, they will cut down all of us."

I shook my head. "It won't be like that. Surrender and I will find you, Ben. I promise. Just give me the tools to do it."

Ben sighed, bringing his free hand up to smooth a strand of hair off my forehead, watching his fingers as they trailed over the side of my face. "Schreber. Sturmbannführer Carsten Schreber. The convoy that leaves tomorrow is to take prisoners to Buchenwald. My unit will split from the convoy near the German boarder and travel to Brussels, and eventually to the western front."

I nodded slowly, squeezing the hand that still held mine. "Carsten Schreber."

"I prefer for you to call me Ben." He let his lips rest against my forehead, breath warm on my skin. "If I could free my brother and come with you, I would leave Carsten behind in Germany forever."

"I'll find you," I murmured. "The debt that Britain owes you is large. I'll do everything I can, I promise you."

His fingers curled in my hair for a moment, clenching tightly as a shudder ran through him. Then his fingers relaxed, smoothing down the back of my neck, down my spine. "Just survive this. Let me believe that no matter what happens to me, you will be all right. That is what is important to me. And..." he stopped, and I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze.

"What is it?"

Ben wet his lips, glancing away, seeming suddenly more nervous and upset than before. "My brother's name is Daniel. His is living in Frankfurt. Before the war his research was in Electron Microscopes, however I am not certain this is still the case. We exchange letters when we can, so I know that he is still alive." He swallowed. "If there is any way you can find him... please take care of him for me."

"Don't talk like this is the end," I whispered, and his lips found mine, warm and gentle. "I can't live with the thought of never seeing you again. I'll find you. I'll do whatever it takes."

Clear blue eyes held the gaze of mine for a long moment. "Just take care of Daniel for me. Larry... whatever fate has in store for me is what I deserve."

There was such a fatalistic tone to his words that I shivered. "What do you mean?"

Ben wet his lips. "I've done many things that I am not proud of, horrible things. And I would do them again if necessary to keep safe those that I love. If the price of that is my death - "

"Don't say that," I said fiercely. "A death to pay for another? It doesn't work that way, it's just another wasted life. You've saved so many - "

"A life saved to pay for a death caused?" He sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, either."

"So you'd leave Daniel alone just to appease karma? Ben, please... please don't do this. He needs you. I need you."

He gave a little nod, agony in his eyes as he returned my gaze. "I know. But I... I need to believe that the two most important people to me will be safe first and foremost if something is to happen to me. Larry... please find him for me before anything else, take care of him for me. Tell him I love him and that I did all of this for him."

I closed my eyes for a moment, but managed to nod. "I'll do my best," I murmured, arching closer and feeling his arms slip around me, holding me tight.

"You know that I love you too, yes?" His words were a whispered admission by my ear, and I shivered in his arms.

"Yes," I replied softly, realizing I'd known it for a long time, though it didn't stop my heart from breaking. "And I love you. I'll do whatever I can. I swear."

"Thank you," he replied, and I nestled my face against his chest, willing myself to commit this to memory before it was gone.

________  
End: Book 1


	2. Book 2 - England

**Captain John Murdoch**

Early in 1943, after the allies secured Africa, I went from being Lieutenant John Murdoch in His Majesty's Army to Captain John Murdoch, and my company was sent back out to fight in the blood bath that was Sicily. A year later we'd liberated Rome from the Germans, and I'd seen enough action to last several lifetimes. My company was given a short rest period back in England, and I was more than happy to be home. Surviving Italy did not, however, keep me safe from injury, and I hadn't been back in London for more than a fortnight when I was caught in a building collapse that left me with a fractured femur, several broken ribs, and months of recovery. One of the senior lieutenants was promoted to second in command of my company, and they all went off to fight on the Western Front. I didn't see many of them again.

Upon my recovery I was asked to stay in England and join a project under the British Intelligence Objectives Sub-Committee. BIOS, as they called themselves, were invested in keeping the intellectual property of the Germans safe from the Russians. If you pushed them enough to admit it, they rather wanted that property for England. Including people.

This was how I found myself in charge of a sizable country manor between London and Hertford, near a small town named Kentish Town. I had scarce two dozen men under my command - a nice change, I thought - and a number of household staff, and for days we worked to ready the manor for an unknown number of guests. Rooms were cleaned and in some cases divided with temporary partitions, furniture was requisitioned, and the salon on the bottom floor of the west wing was turned into a barracks for my men. For myself I claimed a small office near the main entry, and converted a parlour near the Salon into a private bedroom. Rank did have its privileges, after all. At the same time the entire property was searched and mapped, tall walls built around the manor and immediate gardens, and I set out basic patrol patterns and schedules for duty. If there was a need, we would erect temporary housing outside on the grounds as they did for the Prisoner of War camps, depending on the success of the operation.

The preparations proved to be the easy part.

Early in April of 1945, my first group of tenants arrived. Prisoners in everything but name, they were the first members of the German scientific community that had been identified by our forces in in the various German cities the Allies had secured. Scientists and researchers involved in armaments work were the specific target, but there were whispers that anyone who could give British Industry an edge was a potential asset, to help make reparations for the war. They were brought to the manor by a rather cocky young lieutenant who visited my office with a stack of files. He handed them across to me. "The main focus of the first push was to secure paperwork, prototypes and patents. So we only have eight for you at the moment, sir. BIOS will be sending you official orders for them within the next couple of days, but they want you to get information from them on other individuals to target."

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I speak kraut?"

"No sir, but you have a bilingual guest. Top of the pile, sir. He was very helpful in Frankfurt."

I took the file, leaning back in my chair, and flipped it open. There was a black and white photo paper clipped to the bio sheet, a rather handsome younger man with blond hair and wire rimmed glasses who regarded the camera calmly. "Doctor Daniel Schreber. Bit young, isn't he?" Technically I wasn't one to talk; I'd excelled in officer's training and made captain two years ago at thirty-two, but that was far more common in the army than the scientific community.

"Well sir, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, so they say. The damn kraut came and volunteered to work for us. Would have lost a lot of information if it wasn't for him."  
"He came to you?" I scanned the page - name, date of birth, scientific specialities. "Now why would he do that...."

"Recognizes the inherent superiority of Her Majesty's men, I assume. I'll send him in on my way out, shall I, sir? We have to get back."

"Do so," I replied with a frown. There was no way I could get a sense of the man from the limited bio sheet, and I was glad to be rid of the lieutenant.

One of my men brought the scientist in question to my office a short time later, and I stood with a smile, dismissing the soldier. He was a striking man, perfectly Aryan apart from the spectacles, though I rather thought they made him look more attractive. Still, I couldn't imagine he was old enough to be the type we were looking for; he hardly looked older than I was. Despite his neatly tailored suit being travel worn and dusty, he still managed to appear proper and composed. "Doctor Schreber, I presume? I'm Captain John Murdoch."

"Pleased to meet you, Captain." He moved closer, and I stood, straightening my brown uniform jacket, and left my desk to shake his hand.

"Likewise." I had noticed a limp as he moved towards me. "Are you injured, Doctor? Your leg?"

He returned my gaze blankly for a moment. "Ah. No, I am fine thank you, Captain. This is a long term affliction. As a child I suffered from... I believe you call it paralytic polio? Please do not be concerned."

I nodded. "Still, if there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let me know."

Schreber nodded. "Thank you. I assume you have asked me here to discuss the agreement?"

I stared at him evenly for a long moment, long enough that his gaze flitted over my face, and his polite smile was replaced with a little resigned frown. "I expect the Lieutenant did not tell you then. I suppose I should have expected this. No matter. I have it in writing." He took a carefully folded paper from his breast pocket and handed it to me.

The paper, though handwritten, was a formally worded contract that secured the collaboration of the young doctor and unrestricted access to his work and knowledge, as required by the British Empire. It was dependent on the immediate assistance of the British army in locating one Carsten Schreber, prisoner of war. The doctor's signature adorned the bottom of the paper, along with the lieutenant's, his full rank and post, and the signature of his staff sergeant as witness. I read it over twice before returning to my desk, sinking down into the chair behind it. "Please have a seat, Doctor," I offered, already feeling a stress headache coming on. I set the paper down and let my elbows rest on the desk.

Schreber sat, quietly accepting. "I can guess that you will be telling me that you cannot honour this agreement."

I ran my fingers wearily through my dark curls and sighed. "This man did not have the authority to offer you what he did," I admitted, rather wishing he was still here so that I could throttle the little bugger myself. This job was going to be hard enough as it was, and now he'd royally fucked up my best chance for cooperation. "I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, because I can see that you've given us invaluable assistance in Frankfurt. Even I don't have the authority to promise something like this. Please accept my apologies, Doctor."

He gave a nod, though I could see the disappointment in his expression before he quickly schooled it away. "I understand, Captain. I must admit that I expected this outcome. But I hope that the results of my assistance in Frankfurt will convince you to plead my case to someone who can authorize this."

I nodded slowly. "I will make a recommendation to BIOS that we hold to this agreement because I believe it would be of benefit to all of us. But to be completely honest, Doctor, I do not hold much hope that they will honour this arrangement. There have been tens of thousands of Germans who have surrendered to the Allies. He could be anywhere from Russia to America to Australia. If he's even still alive. The chances of finding your father - "

"Brother."

"I'm sorry?"

"Carsten is my brother. My twin. He is the only family that I have left in the world, Captain Murdoch, so I am certain you can understand why this is so important to me."

I watched him for a long moment, seeing the fear beneath his facade of bravery. It struck a sympathetic nerve in me, and I wished I could help this man. "I understand," I replied softly, "I will do what I can to convince them. You have my word."

_______

The reply from BIOS came back a week later as a resolute no. I could almost hear the incredulous laughter behind the politely worded reply. I went into London to see them myself, explaining the difficulties we'd had in communicating with the rest of the men that had been brought to the manor, many of whom had been coerced or taken by force by the T-Force soldiers on the front line. The Lieutenant who had made the bloody agreement in the first place, I was told, would be demoted and reprimanded, but BIOS could and would not hold to the agreement. I was told that I would be provided with a German interpreter in good time, and that I was expected to secure the cooperation of the prisoners - I couldn't call them anything but that, really - without making bargains with the enemy.

The enemy, I thought with a scoff. I couldn't imagine the mild mannered Schreber ever doing anything to hurt anyone, not by his own will. It angered me more than a little that they'd written off the value of his cooperation just because he was German. I wasn't a bloody negotiator, and I couldn't even speak the damn language. How the hell was I supposed to get through to these men?

Schreber took the news hard, though he fought to hide it. He simply nodded, and drew himself up bravely, meeting my gaze. "Will you still help me, Captain Murdoch?"

It was hard to look at him, to hear the plea in his voice, the helplessness in his blue eyes. "I can't," I replied, sounding more helpless than I'd intended. "I have my orders, and there's much I must do here."

"You know I will help you," he replied, a little desperately. "Captain, I am skilled in the knowledge of the mind as well as science. I can convince these men to do what you need them to. Please, just help me find my brother."

"I'm sorry. I can't."

He looked away, emotion held back behind lips that were firmly pressed together. "I see. Then I am afraid that I also cannot help you, Captain. I am sorry as well." And with that, he left my office.

_______

Several days later I returned to my room late in the evening, tired and a little irritated from another unsuccessful day of arguing and trying to wrangle bureaucrats. It was nothing like leading men into battle, and though it was decidedly less lethal, I was beginning to have second thoughts about taking the position. My promised translator still showed no sign of arriving, and the lack of information I'd gained from the prisoners was not earning me any favour in the eyes of BIOS.

When I entered the room, I was startled to find a figure seated quietly in one of the armchairs by the fire. "Doctor Schreber? How the hell did you get in here?"

He stood slowly, hands out, apologetic. "My apologies, Captain. I simply wished to speak with you."

As weary as I was, I was glad to see him. Truthfully, I liked the man more than I should, and even conversation would be welcome after days of dealing with soldiers and grumpy German scientists. "If you've changed your mind, you can ask any of the soldiers to bring you to me...."

He shook his head, a small smile on his well shaped lips. "I was hoping for a more private meeting. As for gaining access to your rooms... I am afraid it was rather simple. Your men are more concerned about us leaving the house than where we go inside of it. I picked the lock."

"I see." I moved to stand by the other arm chair, watching him. "What would you like to discuss?"

"Your request," he replied, "and my offer." Schreber stepped closer. "Captain Murdoch...."

"When we're in private, please call me John," I said softly, suddenly craving any sort of familiarity here. I watched him smile, resting a hand on the back of the armchair near where I stood. It was almost close enough to brush the tan fabric of the sleeve of my uniform, and I imagined that I could almost feel the heat of his skin.

"Then you must do the same. Daniel, please." He was silent for a moment, looking up at me through blond eyelashes, and I forced myself to glance away, to think about anything but how striking he was. "I want to help you," he said, softly. "There is no end to the information I can give you. Names, addresses, even rough blueprints. I have a - a photographic memory, of sorts. But I need to find my brother. Help me with this, and I will do anything you - or Britain - asks of me. I promise you that. Anything at all."

"I believe you," I replied, keeping my eyes carefully fixed on the wall. "But I've told you it's not in my power to do. I can't help you."

"Captain, you know people. You could put in a recommendation, a request... even just for records, for information...."

I gave a little shake of my head. "To BIOS you are simply a seized asset. A spoil of war. And yes, being bilingual is very advantageous, but they won't spend the kind of resources we would need for the request of one German scientist."

"Please help me, John," Daniel murmured softly, and he leaned closer, bringing his hand up to rest lightly on my chest. I froze, eyes closing of their own accord, and felt his fingers smooth over my shoulder, trembling, cupping the back of my neck. I could hardly breathe. How the hell did he know I even wanted men, let alone....

I felt a soft sigh of warm breath against my skin, and then the press of Daniel's lips to my jaw, his fingers smoothing slow circles through the short dark curls at the base of my neck. His free hand slipped down to take mine, warm kisses trailing along my cheek, brushing the corner of my mouth....

I drew a sharp gasp and pulled back, shaken by the desperation he must feel to offer himself to me like this and disgusted at myself for wanting it. "I'm sorry," I said sharply, stepping away and turning my back to him. "Please leave."

"Captain..." The sigh I heard behind me was almost heartbreaking, but I steeled my emotions.

"I will not be bought by sexual favours," I replied, folding my arms over my chest, my fingers digging into my biceps. The words came out far more bitter than intended. "If I could help you, I would. Please leave."

I heard another soft sigh, and he slipped past me, not looking back as he opened the door to my rooms and left.

Even with Daniel gone I certainly couldn't relax enough to sleep. I paced the room for a bit, had a drop of whiskey, finally giving up and leaving my rooms all together. I waved to the soldier stationed at the front door and lit a cigarette as I went out into the grounds, taking a slow walk around the outside of the manor house. The cigarette and the chill of the night air were soothing, though still not quite as much as I had hoped, and I found myself wondering if I should have just taken the man up on the offer of sex. But it wasn't like I could do much to help him, anyway, not with BIOS flat out refusing assistance. Sure, there were people I knew, but it was still like looking for a needle in a hay stack....

I passed the soldier on patrol as I walked, murmuring a greeting and continuing, lost to my own thoughts. I'd just turned the corner when I caught sight of movement out of the corner of my eye and, immediately alert, turned toward the house.

The figure carefully descending the side of the house via a knotted rope was dressed in dark clothing - servants clothing, and I wondered suddenly where he'd gotten them. They were blackened with soot, but what gave him away immediately was the shock of sleek blonde hair, almost silver in the moonlight. I pressed back against the wall into the shadows, watching him silently, waiting until he was almost to the ground before speaking. "Leaving so soon? I would have hoped you'd at least say goodbye."

The soft gasp of surprise was eclipsed by his fall as he let go of the tail end of the fabric, stumbling and tumbling back as he hit the ground. I helped him up, unable to keep myself from smiling, keeping a hand firmly around his wrist. "Bed sheet rope. A little cliché isn't it, Daniel?"

"Old conventions often work the best," Daniel replied, watching me with a small frown. "You can take me back, but if you wish to keep me here you will have to bind me hand and foot. If you will not help me find my brother, I will find him on my own."

I sighed. "I can't. You don't understand how the system works here, how many millions of German prisoners of war are scattered across Europe. They're even shipping some overseas, and the numbers are growing every day...." I gave a little shake of my head. "There is no way that you could find him, especially not on your own."

"No," he said softly, "you do not understand. My brother is the only thing left in the world for me. I worked for the Nazi party only to stay alive in the hopes of being reunited at the end of the war. I will find him, or I will die trying." He closed his eyes for a moment before using his free hand to pull his spectacles out of his breast pocket and put them back on. "I am truly sorry, John. I cannot stay here while my brother's fate is still unknown."

I watched him, his sorrow apparent even in the darkness. "You really were serious when you said that you'd do anything, weren't you?"

"Certainly."

I gave a long sigh, and shook my head. "Look. BIOS is not going to change their minds. But I can send out an inquiry to a few people I know, see if they can refer us to anything, try and get access to whatever records of surrender there are...."

Daniel's head jerked up to look at me, wary, as if this were some kind of trick. I gave another little shake of my head. "I can't do much officially, but I'll do what I can to find out what you need to know. It may take some time, though." I wet my lips, wondering why I felt so desperate to convince him. "Will you stay at least until I've done this? Let me try to help you?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, of course. John... thank you."

I smiled, realizing that I was still holding on to his arm, and let go. "Do you have any idea where he was stationed last?"

"Aachen," he replied without delay. "His last letter was dated on October 18th. He was still alive three days before the Allies took the city. He holds the rank of Sturmbannführer, Captain. An equivalent to your Major, I believe. Sturmbannführer Carsten Schreber."

I felt a soft surge of dread at the title. "Division?"

"By the time he was in Aachen? Seventeenth SS Panzergrenadier Division Götz von Berlichingen."

"The SS," I repeated, dread growing rather stronger.

"Yes," he repeated calmly, expression schooled as he watched me. "Is this a problem?"

I sighed and leaned back against the brick of the building. "The SS? Of everything your country did, all the crimes against humanity, it's widely known that SS were responsible for the most inhumane, despicable - "

"We did what we had to, to survive." Daniel's voice grew hard. "Do you think he would not have left, if he could? No one in Germany has been free to make their own decisions since Adolf Hitler came to power, or even before. My brother could not remove himself from a paramilitary organization in which he had membership from the time we were young, not without drawing intense suspicion. He did what was necessary to protect me. Were I not physically unfit for combat, I would have been in the same position."

"I don't understand." I shook my head. "Protect you? The Nazis wanted you, they wanted your skills, your developments - "

He raised his chin slightly, calm and defiant. "I am schwul. I could not have hidden that without his help. I would have been sent to the camps and purged, regardless of my intellect." My mind groped for the unfamiliar term, and his eyebrows rose slightly upon realizing that I didn't understand. "Homosexual, Captain Murdoch."

"Oh," I stammered, feeling my heart speed up. "Then, before... oh. But how did you know - I mean, what makes you think I am?"

Daniel gave a little smile, relaxing. "German propaganda would have us believe that England is ripe with such sin. It occurs to me that this is perhaps a large exaggeration. However..." he paused, and wet his lips. "I have seen how you look at me."

I felt my hands grow clammy where they pressed against the brick behind me, and I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "Oh."

"John..." He moved to stand in front of me, hands moving to rest lightly on my shoulders. "I like you. I want to help you, and I want to stay here. But I cannot do anything for myself until I can find out about Carsten. He has done too much to protect me for me to ever give up on him."

"I understand," I said softly, feeling the heat of his hands through my clothes and craving more. Still, I didn't expect the way he slowly but deliberately pressed up against me, or the lips that pressed to mine, warm and tender. I gave a soft moan against his mouth at the contact, lips parting automatically to taste him, my hands slipping to catch his hips. His kisses were filled with yearning, but skilled, claiming my lips with little flicks of his tongue. My fingers clenched in the loose fabric of his trousers, urging his passion, drinking in the sensation of his lips and tongue against mine.

My mind caught up with the rest of me then, and I jerked away from him, inadvertently conking my head back against the brick with an audible crack. I heard him give a soft whimper in sympathy. "John?"

"I won't take advantage of you," I said firmly, pulling myself from between him and the wall. "I promise that I will help you, in exchange for your unrestricted help with BIOS once we have found out what happened to your brother. I don't need convincing, and I don't need payment."

He looked a little hurt as he folded his arms across his chest, glancing away. "Then I will not attempt to thank you or secure your loyalty in any other way."

"Thank you," I replied softly, but god, the temptation to take him up on his offer was so strong. How long had it been since I'd been with anyone other than my own right hand? I sighed, taking his arm. "Come on. Let me take you back to your room and get rid of the evidence of your escape. We can speak more in the morning."

Schreber nodded, following me inside, but said nothing more.

_______

I knew the only official channel that I could request assistance through was BIOS, who weren't likely to reconsider their decision. So I started to call in personal favours, sending letters to old contacts in the army. I gave Daniel's brother's name, title, and last known location, and stated that it was a matter of national security to locate the individual.

Francis Lawrence Byrne - or as we called him at the time, Larry - and I had been mates in school, and on occasion, more than mates. We'd kept in occasional contact over the years, and on a few instance met up for some mutual stress relief. He'd been working as a copper in London when I enlisted, but when I'd tried to contact him during my convalescence, I'd been told that he'd become a member of the SOE and was working overseas. I assumed he was in France, as he spoke French fluently. I had no idea if he'd returned to England, or if he was even alive. Still, I figured he might have contacts that I did not, so I sent a letter to him at the offices of the SOE in London.

My expectations had not been high when I sent a copy of my inquiry to him, but only a few days later I had a telegram response on my desk.

'I have info. Coming to see you. -L.'

I sat with Daniel in my room by the fire later that night, and passed over the telegram. He looked it over before handing it back. His fingers brushed against mine as he did, and it took a moment for me to tear my mind back from the shiver of sensation and take in his question. "Who is he?"

"An old friend of mine. Was your brother stationed in France, by any chance?"

He nodded. "Yes, for almost a year. But he left at the end, before Paris was liberated.... I am unable to see how this will help."

I looked over the words on the telegram again, wondering if I'd been too quick to judge its usefulness. Out of everyone I'd written to, I was happiest to receive a reply from Larry, though argumentatively it was mostly for personal reasons. He was very easy to be around. "I'm not sure either. But perhaps he can get access to records and information through the SOE. We'll have to see what he says when he gets here."

The person in question arrived a few days later, riding out to the manor with the housekeeper on her way in with the shipment of food rations provided for the manor. Larry looked much the way I remembered him, though ginger hair had darkened to auburn as he'd grown older and he appeared more than a little ragged and run down beneath his neatly pressed clothes. I clasped his hand warmly. "How have you been, Francis?"

He snorted. "Bloody hell, John. Call me Larry. You know I've always hated that name."

I smiled, feeling strangely reassured by the fact that he hadn't changed all that much after all. "Of course. What have you been up to?"

"I was in France until last August, which you've probably guessed by now," Larry replied without hesitation. "Been at the SOE head office in London helping patch together various pieces of information since then. Do you have a private room we can speak in?"

"Of course." I took him inside, watching him look around the manor house, and smiled. "Wondering about all this?"

He shrugged. "Well, the last I heard, you were in Africa. This is a bit of an upgrade, isn't it?"

I chuckled softly, showing him into the small office I had claimed, giving a nod to the soldier on guard at the door. I sat behind the desk and motioned him to the chair in front of it. "I was in Africa, and then Italy, and then I was in a hospital for months waiting for my leg to mend. BIOS snatched me up to oversee this place. They have been charged with the liberation of certain... intellectual assets from Germany, before the Russians can get to them. The men I have under guard here are only the first; we hope for many more to come over the next few months, once Germany surrenders."

"You're kidnapping scientists," he realized softly, a sudden light of understanding coming into blue eyes as he settled into the chair. His next words were rushed and demanding, almost excited. "Tell me why you're looking for Major Schreber."

"It is... diplomatic. Tell me how you know him."

"He was my contact in Paris," Larry replied without hesitation. "He supplied invaluable information to the Allies about the movements and strategies of the German army, especially for Normandy. But he was ordered back to Germany only days before the allies arrived in Paris. We owe him a great debt, and I will see that recognized and repaid. The SOE wants to recruit him."

I stared at him, my mind immediately rejecting the possibility of what he was saying. "There was a German SS Major feeding information to England?"

He grinned. "A German Major who was the head of Oberg's staff in Paris. We did it for eight months, too, and no one caught us."

"How the hell did you manage that?"

Larry's grin became more than a little smug and suggestive. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"All right." I shrugged, still curious, but decided not to push it for now. "But you don't know where he is at the moment?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be here on my own," Larry replied with a little shake of his head. "The SOE does still consider him a resource if he is found, for his potential knowledge of Oberg and other high level Nazi officials. I daresay that if he is still alive, you will have an easier job getting a German SS Major out of a war camp if you have a way to prove that he fought for England. So... tell me why you are looking for him."

"I'm not authorized do that," I found myself reply automatically, and Larry rolled his eyes.

"Don't give me that bull, John. You have Daniel here, don't you? His brother, the scientist."

I hesitated, but nodded slowly, knowing I'd have to be frank with him to secure his cooperation. "Yes."

My friend leaned back in his chair with a sigh of relief. "He's all right? Can I see him?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "Larry, what we're doing here is extremely classified - "

"Then get it unclassified. Let me see him, and I'll help you in every way I can." Larry leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk, blue eyes pleading. "Come on, John. There's a promise I need to keep. It's important. Please, just let me see him."

I regarded him for a long moment, trying to understand what he wasn't saying, the source of the desperation in his voice. "This man, this... German turncoat. It wasn't just about information. You cared about him, didn't you?"

His eyes dropped, but despite his self consciousness, he didn't seem ashamed. "Yes. He asked me to take care of his brother if at all possible. And I promised myself that I would find him when the war was done. Both are what I've been spending every free moment working on since I came back to England."

"Doctor Schreber reports that your Major was stationed at Aachen when it fell," I said softly. "The mortality rate there was huge on both sides. You know there is a very good chance that he didn't survive."

"Aachen." Larry nodded grimly. "I know. But I need to find out the truth for myself."

I mirrored his nod and stood, heading for the door. "All right. Wait here, please."

I found Daniel in the library, reading silently apart from a few of the other men, who were conversing heatedly in German. He glanced up as I entered, but wisely said nothing until we were away from the others in the hall. "You found something?"

"In a way," I replied. "My contact has arrived. He wanted to meet you. He did know your brother in France, knew him quite well."

Daniel's gaze snapped to mine. "He knew Carsten?"

"So he says. He's a schoolmate of mine. He can be trusted." I knocked lightly at my office door to announce my return, then opened it and motioned Daniel inside.

Larry turned at the sound of the door, the colour draining from his face as he stood slowly. For a moment he just stared, lips moving as if to say something, and if I'd had any questions before now of his attachment to the man we were looking for, they would have all been answered by his reaction. He swallowed hard, giving a little shake of his head. "I'm sorry," he said, eyes not leaving Daniel. "Pardon me, please, I don't mean to - I didn't expect you to look quite so much... I mean, of course you're twins, but...."

Daniel gave a slow nod, expression carefully composed, and extended a hand. "Doctor Daniel Schreber."

He managed a smile, and clasped it. "Larry Byrne. Thank you for seeing me."

Daniel smiled graciously, as if this was his home and not his jail. "Thank you for coming here. John - the Captain has told me that you knew my brother Carsten?"

"Yes." Larry still seemed a little dazed, making no move to let go of Daniel's hand. "We worked together very closely... he gave me invaluable information about Germany that helped the allies in the war. He asked me to find you, if I could. Make sure that you're all right."

Daniel looked a little shaken at the words, but nodded, making no attempt to pull his hand from Larry's. "I... I am fine. I am safe here. Argumentatively I am a spoil of war for the British Empire, but as it appears the alternative would be to be taken by the Russians, I can settle for England." He managed to give Larry a strained smile. "Tell me what you know of Carsten."

"He left Paris on the last convoy out, he said it wasn't possible for him to disappear and stay behind. I imagine Oberg arranged it, to keep him from being captured by the Allies. They were taking prisoners to Buchenwald, and his division was to go to reinforce the Western front." He gave a soft sigh, looking at Daniel, and was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. "He felt there was a very real possibility that he would not survive, but he had made peace with death as long as he could believe that you were still alive and safe. He would be happy that you were here in England."

I saw as much as heard Daniel's shuddering breath, even if I couldn't quite see his lowered face. Larry moved suddenly, releasing Daniel's hand and sweeping him into a tight embrace, pressing his face to his blonde hair. "I promise you that I'll find him," he murmured, voice thick with emotion. "I won't give up until I know for sure what happened. I swear it."

I couldn't help but watch, feeling a strange surge of jealousy at the embrace, but at the same time I wondered if I was intruding on this moment. I leaned back against my office door and tried to quiet my heart.

"Thank you," Daniel murmured, visibly trembling in his arms. "He spoke of you to me, sir. Only in person, of course, when it was safe. Last May, the last time he was able to take a trip home while he was stationed in Paris. You were... very important to him."

I watched Larry's eyes close, and he didn't move to pull away. He swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was husky. "He asked me to give his love to you. And to tell you that everything he did to help England was for your sake."

I saw Daniel's shoulders jerk tense for a moment, heard a soft breath like a sob. A moment later he pulled back enough to look at Larry. "You are much different than I expected. I am afraid I initially misjudged you... I assumed you were involved with him only to secure his cooperation. I... I am touched to see this is not the case, and thankful that he could have something like that."

Larry glanced away with a little sad smile. "I owe your brother a great debt, and not just for the information he provided to us." He released Daniel finally, as if suddenly realizing that he still held him, and leaned against the back of the chair he'd just vacated. "I have enquiries out amongst the army in Europe. There's such a huge number of surrendered and captured soldiers that some are being held in transit camps in France and Germany. The problem is that records of individual soldiers are spotty and incomplete at best, and I have no idea where..." He paused for a moment. "You say he was in Aachen when it fell?"

Daniel nodded. "I have a letter from him from October 18th of last year. Three days before it fell. Herr Byrne - Mister Byrne, I'm sorry - it is very unlikely that I would not have received word before I left Germany if he had fallen in battle. I am certain that he surrendered."

Larry gave a little nod. "Call me Larry, please. I'd hoped he would surrender, I encouraged him to. Do you know what division he was in?"

"The Seventeenth SS Panzergrenadier Division Götz von Berlichingen."

Larry nodded once again, watching him. "That will help. It will help a lot, really. Let me go back into Kentish Town and send off a telegram, make some phone calls. When I hear back from my people we'll go from there, right?"

Daniel nodded, reaching forward to take his hand and holding it in both of his. "Larry, thank you. I am very grateful."

Larry gave a small smile and shook his head. "Just glad to have found you, glad that you're safe."

He smiled, and glanced back to me. "Please keep me informed of any progress, John?"

"Of course," I replied, and held the door for him as he left.

"First name basis, hmm?" With Daniel gone, Larry seemed more his old self and he threw me a pointed look, settling back into his chair.

"Nothing serious," I replied, and sat down behind my desk primly, turning the subject back to him. "You were sleeping with this Carsten?"

Larry paired a wide grin with an innocent shrug. "It proved to be the safest way to exchange information."

I couldn't help but snicker at that, leaning back in my chair. "Lie back and think of England?"

"Oh, it wasn't too difficult a sacrifice to make," he replied, still grinning. "Look, how about you come into town with me? We can get the ball rolling on this... and perhaps find a quiet room to talk?"

"Talk?" I repeated, arching an eyebrow.

He grinned, moving closer and reaching across the desk to place his hand on mine, familiarly. "If you'll forgive me for saying so, you seem to be suffering from a bit of... pent up frustration."

I thought of Daniel, and gave a soft groan despite myself. "You have no idea."

"I have some idea," he replied with a little smile. "Remember, I know his brother. You have it bad for him, don't you? I could help you... take the edge off, if you like."

The thought brought a soft wave of relief, and I nodded, returning his smile. "I won't say no to that."

_______

Larry and I took a drink in one of the town's taverns, catching up on the time that we'd missed and enjoying a surprisingly decent scotch. I found myself thinking again that I was very glad that he came - he always seemed to know just how to get me to relax around him, how to draw out the stress of whatever was going on. We were never serious about each other, never more than friends, but we'd shagged our way through surviving finals, and somehow things were always a little bit better when he was around.

Under the table, he'd let his hand rest on my thigh, stroking slow circles that gradually made their way up the inseam of my uniform. I finally tossed back the remains of my scotch and caught the attention of the proprietor. "My guest and I have a need to discuss matters of national security," I told him. "Would you have a private parlour we could use?"

He didn't, but I already knew that. "I would be happy to rent you a room for an hour or two, Captain?"

"That will suffice."

"National security, hmm?" Larry remarked as he followed me upstairs, half smirking.

I used the key I'd gotten from the proprietor, unlocking the door and showing him inside. "Well, I believe that officially we are here to talk about our lost soldier, yes?"

"Mmm," he replied, and caught the lapels of my jacket to pull me close, catching my mouth with his. His forwardness was what had always attracted me to him, and now was no exception. I slipped my hand up to tangle in auburn locks, holding him to my kisses as I sucked and nipped at his bottom lip, tasting the scotch on him. Larry tossed my hat in the direction of the bureau and was already tugging my belt undone when I pushed him up against the wall next to the door, and he pulled my jacket open, fumbling with the clips of my suspenders.

"Still just as hot as you were in school," I murmured, pinning him back against the door with my hips as I started to kiss hungrily along his jaw. I pushed his jacket and suspenders down his shoulders and off, sucking on his earlobe as I started to work at the buttons of his shirt. I needed this, needed to feel his warmth against me, needed to let go of stress the way that only a good hard fuck would do. I let my jacket fall to the floor without caring if the uniform got dirty or wrinkled, my shirt and tie quickly following, and pulled his shirt open to stroke my hands hungrily over bare skin. Still, there seemed to be something off about his reactions, how quiet he was....

"You seem distracted," I murmured, forcing myself to slow and nuzzling his jaw lightly, hand stroking up and down his side.

Larry's soft laugh in reply sounded a little strained, and he was silent for a long moment. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be. Look... let me suck you off? I just... I'm not sure I'm up to shagging."

I pulled back to look at him, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "Bit of a first for you, but I'm not too surprised. You really are in love with him, aren't you?"

Larry glanced away with a shivering sigh. "Ben and I - Carsten, I'm sorry, that was the cover name I had for him - we... became very close. It felt like he was the only one in Paris I could completely trust, and he saved my skin on more than one occasion. We joked about the shagging just being part of the cover, but I... I couldn't help but fall for him. Before he left he told me that he loved me too." He closed his eyes for a moment before turning his gaze back to me. "The more time passes the more afraid I am that I'll never find out what happened to him. It's almost worse than knowing that he's dead, because then at least I could mourn, but I don't, so I can't. I just have to live with the uncertainty."

"We'll find him," I said softly, slipping a hand up to cup his face, stroking fingertips through his hair. I could understand now why he looked like he'd been burning the candle at both ends for quite some time. "We will, Larry. Don't give up on that."

He nodded. "It's just... it was hard seeing Daniel today. I know he's not him, and he does look a little different with the hair and the glasses, but... it was so hard not to think of Ben, not to wish that it was Ben in that room with us."

I drew him close, wrapping my arms around him tight and pressing my lips to his hair. "Let's just stay here and nap for a bit, all right? Relax and take it easy...."

Larry shook his head. "I want to take care of you. I'm the one that suggested this, and it's been so long since we've seen each other, John..."

"I don't screw around with broken hearted men," I replied, pulling back to give him a teasing smile. "Well, unless you want to fuck me."

He gave a soft laugh, and as his hands smoothed down my bare back to cup my ass I saw some of his old fire come back. "I think I could handle that."

Boots and trousers were kicked off along with undershorts, and I was more than happy to be pushed down under him on the bed, arching up against him as he covered my neck and shoulders with kisses and gentle nips, being more rough with my skin where it wouldn't be seen. I didn't often play the mare for my lovers, but it was nice to let him take control, to work my body with his hands and lips, with the torturous, insistent rock of his hips against mine until I was hard and aching for it. "God, Larry, please...."

"Hold your horses," he replied with a grin, grabbing the small tin of petroleum jelly from beside the bed where I'd set it before I took off my trousers. He slicked his fingers and reached between my thighs to slowly work one into me. "Still just as impatient as ever, aren't you? Forgot how pretty you sound when you're begging for it."

I let out a low groan, trying to adjust to the penetration, the tease of his finger on sensitive nerve endings as he worked it in me before adding a second. "Oh fuck... been a while, Lar, forgot how... ooh god, forgot how nice this is...."

"Just getting started," Larry murmured, shifting down to lap at the head of my cock as he continued to fuck me slowly with his fingers. They crooked, finding my sweet spot unerringly, making me choke back a gasp, my hips bucking up into his mouth before I could stop myself.

"And you're still a bloody cock tease, even when you're topping," I breathed, trying to push back onto his fingers more. "Come on... not going to last long if you keep that up." He took more of my cock into his mouth in reply, fingers scissoring and stretching me, finally pulling back.

"Yes, Captain." Larry grinned, eyes narrowed appreciatively as he looked at me, kneeling between my thighs and slicking his erection. "You're going to still be feeling me when you're sitting in that pretty little office tomorrow," he murmured, giving me the lopsided smirk that made him look so adorable. He pushed my thighs up more, teasing me with the head of his cock, and I had to wrap my fingers around the base of mine to stem back desire.

"Are you going to talk, or fuck me?" I asked, returning the grin, then hissed when my teasing landed me a sharp smack to the ass.

"Get on your hands and knees if you're that desperate for it," he chuckled, kneeling behind me as I eagerly did so. His hands stroked over my hips as he pulled my thighs apart more, hands clenching at my ass and spreading the cheeks to rub against me.

"God, come on - " my words caught in my throat as he started to press inside me, taking me in a series of quick, short thrusts that barely let my body adjust to him. Pushing deep, he ground his hips against my ass, rocking just a little inside me.

"This what you want?" he breathed, and leaned over to nip at my earlobe, drawing away before pushing deep again in another hard thrust that left me breathless, then another. "You want him under you while I do this to you? Want to hear his beautiful, throaty voice groaning in pleasure? Or do you want him on top of you like this with that thick cock deep inside you?"

I bucked back against him, crying out as he picked up the pace, his cock driving into me again and again. His angle changed just a little, and his cock brushed against my sweet spot, sending a flood of sensation through me. "Oh god, yes!"

"Yes to all of the above?" He chuckled breathlessly, keeping up the pace, fingers digging into my hips. His words continued, punctuated by hard thrusts, by hot shocks of sensation. It was too much, too fast, sensation quickly becoming overwhelming, made stronger by his words and the mental images they invoked. "God, John, you're so hot, so tight. Be so perfect for his cock, he has the most amazing cock, so damn big... and the way he tastes, god...."

I let my weight rest on one forearm, not even trying to hold back the cries of pleasure each thrust pulled from my mouth. I wrapped my other hand around the base of my cock again, squeezing, body shuddering. "Larry - !"

"Or think about both of them..." He leaned over me, lips pressed to my neck, breath hot on my skin. "God, think about it, my Ben fucking you while you're inside Daniel, having two of them, looking exactly the same, both focused on you...."

My mind pictured it, just for a split second, and it shredded the remains of my control. I bucked up against him with a desperate cry, clenching and shuddering around him as I came hard, stroking myself through the shudders of orgasm. "That's it," I heard him gasp, thrusts growing more erratic, and within moments he'd joined me, crying out against my shoulder and bucking deep as he reached climax, flooding warm inside me.

For a long moment we both held still, panting, slowly coming down. He pressed a warm kiss to the back of my neck before easing away to collapse beside me, making me very aware that I would be feeling this tomorrow. I gave a soft chuckle at the thought, easing down on my stomach despite the wet spot on the bed. "Mmm... thank you."

"Thank you." His voice was warm and sated, and he shifted to lay on his side to look at me, fingers playing in my hair. "Think you can survive a bit longer around the walking blond temptation?"

I chuckled softly, enjoying the caress. "Not sure about that, but it'll help. God... it's so hard to behave myself, sometimes."

"You do know that he's gay, don't you?"

I nodded, closing my eyes for a moment. "Would be easier if he wasn't."

"Why? Just tell him that you want him. I can't imagine he'd deny you."

"That's the problem." I sighed, turning on my side as well and stretching. "I know he is, and I know he'd give himself to me just to thank me for helping him find his brother. But he's not interested in me."

Larry quirked an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

I glanced away. "Because he tried."

He shrugged. "Doesn't mean he doesn't want you. I'd want you, if I were him."

"Yes, but you already want me," I replied with a chuckle. "I know what you're saying, but I just... can't shake the thought that I'd be using him. And I'd never know if it was real or not."

"You'll know," Larry replied, blue eyes serious. "Just don't shut yourself off to the possibility, all right?"

"We'll see how things go. Maybe when we've figured this whole thing out with his brother I'll see what happens...." I stopped and stared at him for a moment. "Why are you so invested in what happens between him and I, anyway?"

He shrugged. " 'Cause if he's even half of what Ben - Carsten, bugger it - said about him, he's a hell of a guy. I want someone like that for you. And I know you'd take good care of him."

"I'll take care of him anyway," I replied with a little frown. "He's my charge."

"He's more than just your charge, and you know it. Anyway, you've proved my point.

"I guess so," I mused, wrapping myself around his bare form. It was surprisingly warm for mid April, and I was relaxed and sleepy in the aftermath of sex. "Set the alarm clock for half past, will you? I don't want to go back yet."

"Sounds good to me," he replied, doing so before settling back down next to me, pressing his lips to mine in a sleepy kiss.

_______

Larry spent the next day in my office, on the telephone. For once I had my paperwork caught up, and the day was spent going over security procedures with my men, and touring the manor. I ran into Daniel in the front entry way by my office on one trip through - seemingly incidentally, but I knew better. The second time I ran into him there, I stopped him with a light hand on his shoulder. "Doctor Schreber. I will contact you as soon as I have news."

Daniel opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped and nodded. "Of course. Thank you." He managed a smile before turning and disappearing upstairs.

My lieutenant was a man named Brown, who stood at my side as we watched Daniel leave. "Is that one giving you trouble, Captain? He's been acting a bit suspicious lately; I'm worried that he's a flight risk."

I shook my head. "He has reasons to stay," I replied. "Not enough to actually help us, not yet, but I'm working on it." I paused, glancing over to him. "Please understand that I can't officially give an order for one guest to have preferential treatment above the others, but... at the moment he's our best chance for getting anything out of anyone. Make sure he's not treated poorly, at least."

He nodded. "I'll take care of it Captain. Don't you worry."

I nodded. "Thank you."

I went into town with Larry that night, more than allowed a night off and knowing that Brown would keep a capable eye on things. He had rented a room at the inn above the tavern for a few nights, and we bought a small bottle of whiskey and had more than a few drinks while discussing his results so far.

"I didn't expect anything concrete the first day," he told me. "The main issue that I keep running into is that it's completely impossible to get access to the POW registration information, because it's either classified or people simply aren't certain where it is. There's rumour that it's intentionally disorganized to keep the Red Cross from inspecting the camps to measure whether or not we're holding to the Geneva Conventions." He shook his head, taking a swallow of whiskey. "Fortunately now that I have a little more information, a couple of my contacts are going to see if we can at least find out where POWs from his division were sent after Aachen. I'm hoping that since he is an officer that he'll be easier to find, but... I'm not holding my breath."

"So if we can't completely confirm his location, then what?"

"Then I travel to the camps myself and search each one."

I quirked an eyebrow. "That could be quite a ways to go, Larry."

He shrugged. "I survived Nazi occupied France. I'll risk sneaking into Russia or being sunk by the U-Boats crossing the Atlantic. It's not so bad."

"You're completely cuckoo, you realize. I've heard they've even started shipping POWs over to Canada, of all places. What happens if you get there and find nothing?"

Larry tossed back the remains of his whiskey. "If he's not there, then surely someone in his division will be able to tell me what happened."

"And you think they'll talk to you?" I finished my glass as well and poured us both more, thinking about that problem myself. "I want to come with you, and I want to bring Daniel."

Larry snorted. "You honestly think the old men at BIOS will let him out of your cushy little prison?"

"No bloody kidding." I rolled my eyes. "Let me know what you find out, and I'll handle BIOS. As long as it's not something ridiculous like Australia or Russia we might have a chance of it. Actually - do you think you could get the SOE to send an official request for his temporary requisition? I don't care what it's for, but he's our best bet for trying to get information out of the Gerrys."

"And not half bad to look at either," he said with a smirk. "You need to make a move on that pretty man, John. If you don't then I'm sure one of the soldiers will."

I shot him a look. "My men wouldn't hook up with their charges."

"Weren't you in the army, John? Don't be daft. All right then, he'll find some nice older man among the Gerrys you bring over."

I shook my head and shot back the whiskey, standing and taking off the belt over my jacket. "I'm turning in. You coming?"

"This mean you're staying?" His smile was hopeful, and I chuckled, draping my jacket over the back of the chair I'd just vacated.

"If you shut that clever mouth of yours," I replied, though he knew I was joking. The whiskey capped and the lights out, we curled together in the small bed. It was too easy to reach for him in the dark, to lose myself in the relief and pleasure of his touch. We got each other off with lazy, drunken ease, which was followed by one of the most refreshing nights of sleep I'd had in a very long time.

_______

When we returned to the manor the next morning, Daniel was on the porch with a cup of tea and the local newspaper. He gave me an even glance as I passed, to which I nodded, and disappeared inside. Larry took over my office again, and I returned to my rooms, where the house staff had filled a bathtub in front of the fire, as per my instruction. I bathed quickly - the water had cooled a little, but it was pleasant enough - and shaved. I had dressed in a fresh uniform when a soft knock came at my door.

I wasn't surprised to see Daniel there. "Good morning. I was just coming to see you."

He looked a little startled. "Ah - my apologies, Captain. I should not impose..."

I shook my head, stepping back and pulling the door open. "Come in, please. Don't mind the bath."

I saw Daniel glance to it as I closed the door behind him, cheeks flushing pink. He cleared his throat. "Do you have news, then, John?"

"Not news, not yet. But I think we have a plan." I outlined what I'd decided the night before, watching as he listened carefully, and gave a slow nod.

"I think it sounds very effective. But I am not so sure that your people will let me leave this place?"

"I don't expect that to be easy," I admitted, "But I have a few plans. I need to ask you... could you provide me with a page of names? I'm not going to pass it along, I just need something to use as a bargaining tool. To convince them that you are as valuable as I say you are. Or I'll give it to them once they sign the paperwork, to give them something to pass along to the boys at the front while we wait."

Daniel looked distinctly uncomfortable, glancing away. "John, I have given your people so much information all ready...."

"I know," I replied. "I wouldn't ask this from you if I didn't have to, please believe me. But BIOS doesn't know what a contribution you made, they haven't directly seen it."

Daniel drew a slow breath and finally nodded. "Yes, I understand. If it allows me to travel to find Carsten, then I will take the risk. I will give you a sample of the knowledge I have to offer, yes?"

"Yes. Thank you." I smiled, letting myself watch him for a moment, admire in the way his lips pursed slightly as he thought. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Daniel?" Truthfully, I wanted him to say yes. I wanted an excuse to stay here with him, to talk longer. But I didn't expect Daniel to look almost upset, half turning away from me.

"Yes. I... I understand that Mister Byrne and yourself are old acquaintances," he said finally, refusing to meet my gaze. "But I hope that you will respect myself and my brother enough not to seduce Larry away from him."

The thought was so absurd that I had to choke back a laugh. Was that why he seemed so upset? I remembered what Larry had said about Carsten, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of him. "Trust me Daniel; there is absolutely no risk of that. His feelings for your brother are more than genuine. I haven't seen him so serious about someone since the beginning of the war."

Daniel glanced back to me, the hostility fading. "Since the beginning of the war? What happened?"

"He had a lover in Normandy that he'd known since he was a boy. He disappeared in the first wave of the purge when the Germans occupied France, and it hit Larry hard." I gave Daniel a soft smile. "I didn't think anyone could ever lift that sorrow from him, honestly. So I'm thankful to your brother." Now to hope that he was still alive....

He nodded slowly, taking this all in. "And yourself, John?"

I found myself momentarily frozen in the gaze of those wide blue eyes, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. My heart skipped a beat or two and I forced myself to look away. "Larry is an old friend, nothing more. We are involved at times, but it has nothing to do with love."

"But...." Daniel stopped, and gave a soft sigh. "Thank you," he said finally, softly. "I will bring the information you asked for to you in the morning of tomorrow." He paused a few feet from the door, his voice once again calm and composed, but also somehow cold. "If you are able to access the patents that your men confiscated in Frankfurt, please look for H8921J-9. It is the formula for an early form of rocket fuel, and held by a former Berlin University professor named Neumann, and I am listed as his primary assistant and co-contributor." He looked back to me. "I was sixteen at the time. Will this be an aid to illustrate my worth to your people, Captain?"

I couldn't understand his sudden coldness, but I nodded. "Thank you. I'm sure it will."

_______

Two days passed before we received news. In the meanwhile, Larry secured a requisition request from the SOE for Daniel's services, and I prepared to do battle with BIOS over it, going through paperwork and preparing my arguments while Larry perched on the edge of my desk trying to track people down by phone. More than once he left to talk with Daniel, and I was more than a little jealous of the increasing amount of time they spent together. It was ridiculous, and I tried to push it away - I had no intention of making a move on Daniel, and regardless of whether I did or not, Larry was honourable enough that I knew he wouldn't either. But part of me couldn't help wondering what would happen afterwards if we went through all of this and couldn't find Daniel's brother. It would be all too natural for them to turn to each other for comfort, wouldn't it?

Finally Larry got a call back from a contact in the archives in London. The members of the Seventeenth SS Panzergrenadier Division Götz von Berlichingen that had surrendered in Aachen had been shipped up into Scotland, and from there divided into the various small POW camps. These, at least, she had a list of - camp numbers, locations, and the names of the officers in command of each. She also said that she was trying to work an acquaintance of hers in the 'Prisoner of War Interrogation Section', the group that was responsible for questioning and evaluating captured soldiers upon arrival in England. If searching the camps in Scotland proved unsuccessful, that information would hopefully provide another lead on where to look. I set up a meeting with BIOS the next day.

After the information came in I left Larry in the office to update the SOE and went to find Daniel. He was in the library speaking with an older gentleman, and excused himself when he saw me in the doorway. "Have you heard something, Captain?"

"A start," I replied, taking him into one of the bedrooms on the second floor that was currently unused and locking the door behind us to ensure privacy. "It's a very good start, actually, and perhaps the best we could have hoped for. There's a likely chance he's in Scotland."

Daniel's lips parted slightly, staring at me in silence for a moment. "Scotland. So close."

"Yes." I was smiling despite myself. "It seems that's where the POWs taken at Aachen were sent. There are a number of camps, so we'll travel up there and check them out, keep to the plan. I'm thinking there's a good chance we can talk BIOS into letting us head up there."

"I see." He seemed almost stunned and let out a shaky exhalation. "When will you know?"

"With luck, by the end of the day tomorrow. Larry and I are going into London; we'll pick up the specific information we need, and then we'll go to see BIOS. I'll telephone when we're finished and let you know the outcome."

"Thank you." He didn't seem all that reassured, and I gave into the urge to reach out, letting my hand rest on his arm.

"Daniel... we'll figure something out. I won't give up on it, I promise you."

Daniel looked up at me, almost startled by my touch, and gave me a soft smile. "It's very kind of you. Thank you, John. If we are able to travel, do we have sufficient finances? I have a few valuables I can part with if necessary. A gold pocket watch, rings...."

I had been under the impression that T-Force had restricted its 'guests' from travelling with unnecessary assets such as cash and valuables, but somehow I wasn't surprised by the revelation that Daniel had smuggled things with him. "It should be fine," I told him. "The SOE has allocated a small travelling allowance, and we have other resources. Thank you."

Daniel gave another little nod, silent for a moment, watching me. He seemed hesitant, but then he stepped close to me, leaning in to press his lips to mine. The kiss was warm, but fleeting, and when he stepped back he looked more than a little flustered, the tips of his ears cutely pink. "For luck," he explained quickly, and before I knew it he'd unlocked the door to the room and left.

I shouldn't have felt the thrill of happiness that ran through me. But though I tried, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

 

The next morning I drove Larry into London, going over and over my arguments in my head, stomach tied in knots. It would be my persuasion that would begin or end this quest, and after Larry had gone to so much work I was more than a little worried about letting them down. As I drove I began to think of alternatives, and by the time we reached the city I'd half formulated a plan to slip Daniel out of the manor and send him off with Larry alone. I could cover for his absence, I was certain, but the idea of sending the two of them off alone to hunt through camps filled with Nazis with no military escort didn't sit easy with me.

We met with Larry's contact over a late lunch, a sweet older woman named Nancy who worked for the army as a clerk and who had lost her husband while he'd been in the Air force. The information seemed solid, and was impressively detailed - names, numbers, addresses and locations of various camps on the Scottish Highlands, along with a name of one or two of the officers in charge, and basic information on the types of prisoners sent there. POWs were rated based on their fanaticism to Nazi Germany, and many of the camps in Scotland were filled with the more voracious offenders, or 'black' prisoners. Captured U boat crews, members of the Luftwaffe, and of course the Waffen-SS. Nancy had even marked the approximate locations of the camps on a map.

Larry pulled her into a hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. "You're a lifesaver, Nance. I owe you."

"Shush, you don't owe me a thing," she replied with a soft chuckle. "I'm all too happy to help a handsome young thing like yourself. Just come by for a cup of tea sometime, or give me a telephone and let me know how things go. I don't think it will be easy for you, but good luck."

The meeting with BIOS took far longer than I'd expected, but in the end they allowed our excursion. Rather begrudgingly, I thought, but between the requisition request from the SOE and the paper of information that I dangled in front of their noses like a plump carrot, they finally agreed to it. This meant more paperwork for me, and some hurried communication with the office of the SOE on Larry's part before the end of the business day, but as soon as I had a moment I called back to the manor.

Brown had been expecting my call, and picked up within a few rings. "I hope you have good news, sir. Mister No Special Treatment has been wearing holes in the rug in the front entryway from pacing all day.

"I do," I replied, and felt a wave of relief as I said it. "The plan is a go. I'll be taking one of the men with me for an escort, whichever one you think you can spare. The manor will be left in your capable hands."

"She'll be right as rain in your absence, sir. If I can be so bold as to make a suggestion, you might take young Herrington up with you. Bertrand's got a pretty young wife up there and a son he's not yet seen, if you happen to be passing through his hometown...."

"I'll do what I can," I replied with a smile. "Can you put Doctor Schreber on the phone?"

There was only a few minutes wait before Daniel picked up, and I occurred to me that Brown must have been serious about him wearing down the carpet in the front entry. "John." His voice was tight and a little breathless. "What news?"

I knew the smile could be heard in my voice. "We're going to Scotland."

I heard a shivering sigh through the phone lines, and spoke with a joy that made everything worth it. "I knew you could do it, John. Thank you."

_______

Larry and I left London before sunrise, driving back to Kentish Town and through to the manor. Daniel was already waiting with a small suitcase, making me wonder if he'd been up all night. I left Brown in charge of the manor as we'd arranged and took one soldier with me. He was the one Brown had recommended, Bertrand Herrington, who ended up to be quiet and fairly easy going, which was very much what I wanted for this trip.

We did an about face back into London, one of my other men driving us to catch the two o'clock train, where we managed to secure a private compartment, the four of us and our light luggage. It was an uneventful ride, consisting of Bertrand curling up with a book and Daniel thoroughly flouncing Larry in five games of chess before he finally gave up. After tea I gave Bertrand permission to stay in the dining car at the bar. Larry stretched out on one of the seats with the day's paper, and I sat on the other, requisitioning Bertrand's book. Daniel settled beside me and gave me an amused smile before turning his attention to his own book.

I didn't realize that Daniel had fallen asleep until his head settled onto my shoulder, breathing slow and deep. I turned to nuzzle his hair without really thinking about it, and caught Larry giving me a knowing look over the top of the paper. I frowned, straightening a little without jostling Daniel. "What?"

He rolled his eyes, folding the paper and setting it aside with a little shake of his head. "You need to do it."

"Larry, I'm not doing anything. I've told you why."

"Bugger your reasons. Look, if you don't make a move on him..." Larry hesitated before lifting his chin defiantly. "I will."

I gave a little laugh as if to acknowledge it as a joke when I wasn't sure it was. "You will not."

"Why not?"

"Have you forgotten the reason we're doing this whole thing?"

"Of course not." Larry grinned, leaning his head back against the wall of the train, still watching me. "But just because I'm in love with one doesn't mean I can't take proper care of the other. It would be pretty hot to have twins in bed." He chuckled softly. "You know I'm pulling your leg, John. Just - look, he's a perfectly adorable, incredibly intelligent individual, and you're being completely daft about this whole thing."

"I know he is, he's all of that and more. You know how I feel about him, Larry." I looked down at Daniel's sleeping form with a soft sigh. "But I'm in a position of power over him. How can I ever know if anything we have is real and not because of that?"

Larry glanced over at Daniel's head on my shoulder. "Because people don't unconsciously snuggle up to other people in their sleep when they're playing power games. Or you could always just trust the man, I know it's a bit of a hard concept for you to grasp." He gave a little frown. "You always play things far too safe and you always regret it afterwards. You know that, John. So listen to me for once in your life. Stop making up excuses and do something about how you feel, yeah? Or else you'll miss the opportunity and spend the rest of your life wondering about the 'what if's."

I had to admit that he had a point. "You don't regret the chances you've taken? Even if they end in heartbreak?"

"Not for a minute."

"Even if we can't find Carsten?"

Larry glanced away for a moment before giving a slow shake of his head. "No. The only thing I'll ever regret about him is not acting sooner than I did."

I was silent for a moment, looking out at the countryside that sped by in the light of the setting sun. "I'll think about it."

"You've done plenty of thinking," he replied. "Just do it."

I decided to ignore the last statement, going back to my book. But the train was warm and between the drive and the previous night's paperwork I hadn't had much sleep, so before long I set the book aside and let my head rest against the back of the seat, giving in to my weariness.

 

I awoke when the train was approaching Glasgow, my face pressed against blond hair. I could hear Daniel and Larry talking in low voices, and for a moment I indulged myself, revelling in the warmth of Daniel's body next to my own. Then I sat up and stretched, giving them both what I hoped was a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that."

"It is perfectly all right John." Daniel's smile was sweet and more than a little fond, and I had to force myself to look away. Still, when the train came to a stop I took Daniel's suitcase from the luggage rack along with my own. I answered his questioning look with only a slight smile before leaving the train compartment and disembarking.

We rented rooms at a local inn and took a late dinner in one of them. I excused Bertrand for the night, and Larry and I sat with Daniel for a few hours in chairs around the fireplace in one of the rooms, sipping decent enough glasses of whiskey. We spoke for a time about travel plans, pouring over the map with the camps marked on it and determining a rough travel plan. Finally the conversation turned to more informal things - summer, music and somehow arguing over brewers and the superiority of German beer.

"Were things really that bad, in Germany?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, idly swirling the whisky in my glass. "Everything they tell us about people living in constant fear, turning in family members...."

Daniel looked thoughtful. "It depends," he said slowly. "In some ways, yes, it did happen like that. But many people remained fairly oblivious. The propaganda was effective at keeping people quiet. The people who disappeared, after all, were evil enemies of the fatherland, or so it went. For myself it was rather different... with a secret to keep, yes, there was a constant shadow of fear. Also I knew pieces of the large picture, because of Carsten. The bombs caused more fear than the Nazi party in many cases. Much like in London they did much damage to the civilian population. I lost my fiancée in a raid on Berlin."

"Fiancée." Larry looked a little confused. "But Ben - Carsten said..."

The doctor looked a little embarrassed, taking a sip of his drink. "The unfortunate girl was more of a... what do you call it here, smoke screen? My love for her was only platonic. But her presence made things safer for me."

"You never took the chance of having a male lover, then?" Larry finished his drink and set the empty glass down on the table, watching him.

"Only one," Daniel replied, a little apologetically. "There was only one I could trust enough not to betray me."

Larry stiffened, a peculiar expression flitting across his face before it was pushed away. "I see," he said, then smiled. "Well, hopefully that can change for you here. I'm going to bed -"

I looked up with a sudden surge of panic. "You're leaving? I thought you were staying here with Daniel?"

"Better not, I've been told I snore. I'll leave this room to you two." Larry gave us both a winning grin before turning for the door. "Gentlemen, good night."

We had arranged to sleep two to a room - less of a drain on resources, and it kept more of an appearance of propriety. People still felt uneasy about Germans - even civilians - and despite his command of the English language Daniel's accent still made his origin undeniable. I didn't want to take the chance of someone questioning why we were here letting one have free reign of the inn, or worse, for any harm to come to him. I bid Larry goodnight and stood myself. "Stay up as long as you like. I'm going to catch some sleep."

Daniel nodded, finishing the rest of his drink before standing, making his way slowly to me. "John..." My name on his lips was soft, almost hesitant, and he swallowed before speaking again. "It seems that perhaps you and I did not start things correctly. On the right footing?"

I gave a small nod, watching him, feeling the tension build between us. "It wasn't the most ideal of circumstances."

"No," he agreed, still watching me, seeming distinctly uncomfortable. "It... it was cruel and manipulative of me to offer myself to you as a bid to secure your help."

I forced a smile and glanced away. "You didn't have many options. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same, in your place."

"It still does not excuse my impropriety." Daniel was silent for a moment before drawing a deep breath. "John. I heard what you were speaking about, on the train."

I felt my heart stop for a long moment, and I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm sorry. I thought that you were asleep."

"Your voices woke me. I apologize for feigning sleep." He reached out tentatively, his fingers just brushing my sleeve. "Can I ask you to forget what I did and forgive the mistakes I have made? Is it possible for you and I to start again?"

"Start again?" I echoed dumbly, and swallowed the knot of nervousness that had formed in my throat. "How do you mean?"

I watched him wet his lips, a tiny flash of tongue that made me suddenly very acutely aware that we were alone together in a room with only one double bed. "I mean," he said softly, "that when I came to you... regardless of what I needed, I - I had hoped it would be more than just... business. I mean that I think that you are beautiful and engaging and I - " his head lowered, glancing away nervously. "I would very much like to be intimate with you. If you - if you would like to."

I stood slowly, reaching out to slide my fingertips over Daniel's sleeve, stroking slowly up his arm to curl around his shoulder. "I wouldn't have been so upset about it if I didn't want you as much as I do," I said softly, giving him a smile that I hoped wasn't as nervous as I felt, and he looked up at me in surprise. I slipped one hand to cup his face gently, stroking his cheekbone with one thumb. "And I wouldn't be here if I didn't like you as much as I do. But... when this is all said and done, Daniel... I really don't know what kind of opportunity we'll have to be together...."

His skin was warm under my fingers, and he closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into my palm with a soft sigh that was more than a little longing. "Then it seems we should make what we can of the time that we have, yes?"

"Let's start over, then," I heard myself whisper, and leaned in to claim those sweet lips with my own. I'd almost forgotten how good it was to kiss him, how it felt to have him pressed close to me, one hand tangled in my curls, holding me to his kisses. I gave a low moan against his mouth, pulling him close like I'd always wanted to, tasting him hungrily. I let my fingers slip up into silken strands of golden hair, memorizing the feel of him against me as I memorized the taste of him. The buttons of his shirt and vest came undone at a touch of my fingers, and I let my hands stroke over his shoulders, let my fingertips whisper over the bare skin underneath. "God, I've wanted you so badly."

Daniel gave a soft moan against my lips, arching against me, hips pressing to mine, sending a rush of sensation to my already hardening cock. I could feel the heat of his body through our clothes, and I tightened my arm around his waist to keep him from pulling away. It was hard to keep myself in check, tearing hungry kisses from his lips, my breath echoing his sharp gasps as he returned my kisses with just as much desire, fingers clenched in my hair. His other hand tugged the belt on my uniform undone, followed by my jacket, stroking hungrily over my chest. He urged me back towards the chair I'd been sitting in, a tall, chocolate leather wingback, and I perched on the edge only to have him kneel over my lap, pressing close to claim my mouth again.

It was as if all the other encounters I'd had with him - the brief, fleeting kisses and incidental touch - had just been a tease, weeks of flirtation like a long drawn out foreplay, stoking smouldering passions for this moment. I stroked my hands hungrily down his back to cup his ass and pull him to me, groaning against his mouth at the sensation our bodies pressed together. It was easy to strip off his jacket, his shirt, vest and tie, letting my hands stroke over his bare back and shoulders. It didn't take much for him to give my uniform the same treatment, arching closer, letting me feel the warmth of his bare skin pressed against mine. "So beautiful," I murmured, and let myself kiss along his jaw, suck and nip at his throat. Daniel gave a soft whimper, shifting and almost squirming on my lap in a way that was making me even harder, and I let my hips grind up slowly against his, entirely gratified by the feel of his cock pressed hard against me through his trousers.

"More," he whimpered, fingers clenched in my hair and at my shoulder, rocking against me almost desperately. He gave a shuddering groan as I nipped at the crook of his neck, my fingers kneading his ass, encouraging him to move harder on me.

"How do you want this?" I murmured, kissing back up to suck at the soft skin just under his earlobe. "I'll do anything you want me to, Daniel. Anything at all."

I heard him draw a shivering breath, his fingers trailing down the back of my neck, down my spine. "Sex," he murmured softly, and he pulled back to look at me with a strange mix of shyness and need that was entirely irresistible. "I want you to make love to me."

I slipped a hand between us to trace my fingertips over his erection, watching his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment as he arched up against me in pleasure. "Shall we move this to the bed, then?"

"No." Daniel's smile was almost impish, and he leaned in to kiss me, nipping lightly at my bottom lip. His fingers moved to tug my trousers undone, slipping down the waistband of my shorts to cup my cock, palming it slowly. "Here. Push me up against the back of the chair."

"I can do that," I managed to gasp, arching up into his touch and returning the favour, loving the feel of my palm stroking against the hard heat of his cock. "Take off your trousers and sit here for me first?" I stood with him, kissing him warm and deep as I helped him tug off the rest of his clothes, curling my fingers around his erection to stroke him slowly. Then I pushed him back into the leather chair, taking a brief moment to admire the play of his golden hair, his pale skinned form against the dark leather.

I dropped to my knees on front of him, stroking my hands slowly up and down his thighs as I kissed and licked my way down his chest. I could feel him shiver under my hands as I nuzzled the base of his erection, trailing soft kisses up the underside before taking his head in my mouth with a soft groan. He was thick, admirably so, and I lost myself in the pleasure of tasting him, moving my mouth on him slowly and stroking the base of his cock with one hand. The scent of his arousal and the throaty little moans he was making were intoxicating, his hands stroking restlessly over my hair and shoulders, and he bucked up into my mouth a little helplessly.

"John, please...."

I flicked my tongue against the head of his cock as I pulled back, dropping a soft kiss to his mouth as I stood, stroking my fingers over the side of his face. "Just give me a moment, I'll be right back."

He smiled at my words, and I slipped out of the rest of my clothes. I quickly popped open my suitcase and found the small tin I'd brought with me, though I certainly hadn't expected to use it for this, and not with him. When I turned back Daniel had moved to kneel up on the seat of the wingback, arms pillowed on the back, and was watching me over his shoulder with a little smile. For a moment all I could do was stare; taking in the lines of his body and the curve of his ass, the warmth of the lamplight and the fire flickering on his skin. Then I moved to press up against him, catching his mouth hungrily as I let my hands stroke over his thighs and hips, up and down his torso, mapping his bare skin. "You are so damn beautiful."

Daniel's answering laugh seemed almost shy, and he rocked back against me a little, grinding his ass against my erection. "And yourself, John. You leave me breathless." He gave a sharp gasp as my fingers curled around his erection, stroking him slowly, his eyes falling closed again for a moment. "Not just from that. God...." I covered his bare shoulder in warm kisses, sucking at his skin and leaving soft pink kiss bruises, loving the way it made him moan and writhe, pressing back against me. "John, please...."

"Shh..." I pressed a warm kiss to the back of his neck, finding the tin of petroleum jelly where I'd dropped it on the chair cushion and coating two fingers, working them into him carefully. His body was tight, and he gave a choked groan at the penetration, pressing back against my fingers a little.

"You will not hurt me," Daniel gasped, groaning as my fingers found their target, brushing against his sweet spot. I felt him shudder against me, and I fought to keep control, fucking him slowly with my fingers, stretching him. "My god," his voice was almost a whimper, and he reached back to catch my hip, pull me closer. "I need you...."

I slicked more of the jelly over my cock with trembling fingers, feeling almost mindlessly aroused by his words, the feel of his body against mine. I pressed my lips to his shoulder, slipping an arm around his waist to anchor us, and started to press into him carefully. "Oh god, Daniel...." The heat of his body stretching around me as I rocked deeper was indescribably good, and I could feel his every shudder of pleasure, every gasp for breath. He twisted a little to turn his face to mine and I claimed the offered lips without hesitation, kissing him slow and warm and deep as I buried myself inside him.

Daniel was rocking back against me almost before I could get my bearings, giving little needy groans into my mouth, his hands clenched tight on the back of the chair. "You feel so good," I breathed, rocking up a little harder and driving a cry of pleasure from his lips as a result. "So very, very good, Daniel, so tight, god...."

"So big," he gasped in reply, rocking back to meet my slow thrusts, crying out as I shifted the angle of penetration just a little, just enough to drive a shock of pleasure through his body. "Ja - oh, god John, there - more, please!"

I sped up, letting my eyes fall closed to the sensations, driving up hard and deep into him and being very thankful that the chair was so sturdy. I knew I wasn't going to last long, not like this, not after wanting him for so long, and I slipped a hand to encircle Daniel's erection, stroking him firmly in time with my thrusts. I could feel the way it made his body tense, and he bucked almost helplessly between my cock and my hand, shuddering against me, gasping my name. The knowledge, the feel of his pleasure only stoked mine hotter, and I bucked hard into him again, drunk on his throaty moans, the way our bodies moved together, reaching for more sensation. His head fell back against my shoulder, eyes closed and lips parted to helpless gasps, and his body shuddered, a ragged cry torn from his lips as he came, hot and slick in my fingers. I let my own passion have free reign at that, thrusting deep a few more times as he clenched around my cock until everything broke free. Sensation shuddered white hot through my body, and I was crying out for him without hardly realizing, a slave to the pleasure of his body and the sound of his voice.

Daniel's thighs were trembling as I tried to catch my breath, and I pressed a kiss under his ear, keeping an arm tight around him to help support him. "Now should we move this to the bed?"

"Please," he breathed, giving a soft whimper as I carefully eased away. I wiped my fingers on one of the serviettes that were left from dinner, making a note to check the chair in the morning, and helped him over to the bed, drawing back the quilts for him. He set his rather smudged spectacles on the table beside the bed and looked up at me, seeming almost vulnerable as he lay back amidst the pillows. I wasted no time in turning out the lamps and climbing in next to him, drawing him close and nuzzling his hair.

"You're amazing," I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "Everything I thought you'd be and more. Thank you."

Daniel seemed to relax a little, curling closer to me and turning his face to press soft kisses to my lips, fingers stroking through my hair. "Thank you," he echoed, and gave a soft sigh. "It has been... god, almost a year. And for the very first time, I felt truly safe."

"I'll take care of you," I found myself saying, and meant it, loving the way it made him smile. "Always, I promise. No matter what happens."

He seemed to get a little choked up at my words, and pressed a trembling kiss to my lips, sighing as my arms tightened around him. "Thank you," he murmured. As I relaxed into sleep with Daniel in my arms, hearing his breathing become slow and deep, I thought about how right Larry had been and how I definitely should have done this much sooner.

_______

We had use of an army car that was dropped off the next morning, a big clunky thing that easily fit four plus luggage. Hopefully five, if our trip was a success. We drove out to a camp near Deaconsbank, then the Johnstone Castle camp, which contrary to our information held mostly POWs who were members of the Wehrmacht - the regular German army - and not the SS. None of them had been at Aachen. But the head of the camp there was able to give us a bit more recent information, and we revised our travel plans based on that. Based on that information we decided to take two of the more remote camps out of the picture, potentially giving us extra time for more travel, if necessary. I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

The camp in Denny only housed Italian prisoners, and it was the same in Doune. Stirling was the first time we got any real information, at the Abbeycraig Park camp, which reminded me a little of my own installation - an old manor house and supporting buildings turned into prisoner barracks with a few Nissen huts set up in the pasture. It was rough, though, and the prisoners I saw sported worn out clothes and tattered uniforms, all with a white P painted on the leg.

We talked to camp staff for quite some time, and I was able to narrow down some information on the other camps nearby. Finally the camp's CO, a man named Wildon, agreed to let us speak to a few of the men who had been captured at Aachen. We waited in the camp's small chapel, a stone building in front of what seemed to be an old family cemetery, cool and dimly lit, and I tried not to feel anxious. It was nearing the end of the second day since we arrived in Glasgow, and we still had a lot of travelling to do. Unless we could find more concrete information about where he might be - or if he was even still alive - all we could do was keep on as we were, checking camp by camp.

The CO reappeared with a pair of guards and a prisoner between them in a worn uniform of the Waffen-SS, the embroidery on his collar marking him as the equivalent to my own rank. The man seemed calm, but as he grew closer he stiffened, giving Larry a hard stare. Then he spoke - not German, but French, hard and angry.

"I need to leave," Larry murmured, watching the man warily, but the prisoner's tirade was cut off by a sharp word from Daniel. My mild mannered lover seemed immediately stern and commanding, and the prisoner's attention snapped to him, responding in German. Though Daniel's voice remained low and even as they conversed, I could hear the anger that grew in it, and the prisoner only grew louder, red faced and furious. Finally he lunged for Daniel, held back by the guards, and Wildon gave a sharp order that saw him removed from the building.

"I don't suppose you want to tell me what that was all about?" Wildon asked sharply, but Larry spoke before I could.

"The man recognized me from when he was stationed in Paris," he said simply. "I was a spy there for England. He may have connected me to the man we are looking for."

"It does not matter," Daniel said simply, coldly. "He does not have the information we need. Is there anyone else I could speak with?"

As soon as the commander was out of sight I turned to Daniel, keeping my voice low. "Are you all right?"

Daniel managed a smile. "Do not worry about me. I was prepared for this to be difficult. I have established a number of stories as to why we are looking for Carsten, however in cases such as this it is rather difficult to convince them of a lie." His hand brushed my sleeve, briefly, but before I could say anything else Wildon returned with new guards and a new man. This one was in civilian clothes, so I couldn't determine his rank. He seemed cooperative, and answered Daniel's questions calmly, seeming almost sympathetic. They spoke for some time, but for some reason Daniel didn't seem encouraged.

Finally he stepped back, giving me what seemed like a forced smile. "This is all I need to ask here, Captain. Thank you. And yourself too, Officer Wildon."

"Of course. Anything to help the war effort. I hope you gentlemen can find what you're looking for."

I let Bertrand lead the way through the camp back to where we'd left the car, falling back to flank Daniel with Larry. "Are you sure you're all right?"

He let out a soft sigh, visibly shaken. "I am fine, Captain. Thank you."

"You don't look fine, Doctor. What did they say?"

"The first one was very unhappy with Mister Byrne's presence. He made some rather disparaging comments regarding my brother's honour and loyalty to the fatherland. Perhaps not unfounded." He managed a tight smile as we reached the car, pulling open the back door as Larry rounded to the passenger side. "Shall we move on to the next camp?"

I glanced at the setting sun. "It's too late. We'll stay in Stirling for the night and set out again tomorrow. Doctor, what about the second prisoner?"

His eyes flicked to Larry briefly. "He saw my brother taken alive in Aachen and again in the sorting cages when they reached England. He is alive, and he must be here somewhere."

The mannerisms didn't fit his words, even I could see that. I shook my head slowly, softening my voice. "Then why are you so upset?"

Daniel stared at me silently for a moment, then turned away. "My apologies, Captain. The first prisoner upset me, and I am very tired." He glanced to the car, where Bertrand was already seated, and reached out to place his hand on top of mine where it sat on the roof of the car. "Please... can we go back to the hotel now?"

I let the matter go for the moment and gave him a soft smile. "Of course."

My companions were all quiet on the short drive back into Stirling proper. Daniel followed me silently as we checked into the hotel, before disappearing up to one of the two rooms. Larry caught my arm as we watched him go. "He's not okay."

"I know," I replied. "I'll talk to him."

He nodded slowly, and hesitated for a moment before speaking. "John... if something happened, if he's dead... I can handle it. I'd rather know than keep searching in vain."

"I know," I said again, covering his hand on my arm and giving it a brief squeeze. "Arrange for some supper in an hour, will you? I'll come find you in a bit." With that I left him in the lobby, climbing worn stairs up to the second floor and knocking lightly on the door he'd taken the key for.

It opened a moment later, and Daniel gave me the same strained smile as before. He stepped back to let me in. "Thank you for your help today, John."

"It's no trouble, you know that." Then I locked the door behind me and stepped forward before he could say anything more, pulling him into my arms and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. Daniel shuddered and half sagged against me, as if whatever support had been holding him together had broken at my touch. It made me more worried than I'd been before, and I helped him to sit with me on the edge of the bed, keeping him close. "Do you want to tell me what really happened, Daniel?"

He didn't move to pull back, letting out a long, shuddering sigh against my hair. "I was telling you the truth. I know that Carsten is alive, because I know that the prisoner - Hermann - was lying."

"He told you that your brother's dead?"

Daniel sighed softly again, and was silent for so long that I began to think he wouldn't answer. "I am very good at reading people - I have told you that before. It is something that I have studied and practised from a very young age as a survival tactic. I have been a scholar of all the great psychiatry texts; I can understand body language, read physiological responses. I know that he was lying."

I shook my head slowly. "If you know that for certain, why are you so upset?"

"The story he told wasn't easy to listen to, John. He told me he watched my brother die in the sorting cages of an infection from a piece of shrapnel embedded in his leg. It must have happened to someone. He saw what happened, he was there. It was real to him. That is why it took me so long to determine its legitimacy. I am not certain if he was lying for a reason, or if he was simply trying to be kind, to give me closure."

I stroked a hand over his hair, thinking on his words. Was it simply denial, his refusal to believe that the tale the prisoner had told wasn't true? Should I let him continue searching if we were only going to find the same information? Should I let him continue to hurt himself? But on the other hand... could I really tell him that the search was over because I refused to believe him? I gently pressed my lips to his temple. "Hey. It's not true, all right? If he was dead you would have heard, you said that yourself. The allies have been very good at sending tags back to Germany, especially for officers - well, not so much the soviets but it was our people, the Canadians, the Americans, we took Aachen. He's not dead, Daniel. We just have to find out where he is."

"But what if he is?" his arms tightened around me a little, fingers clenched in the back of my coat. "What if I have done nothing but waste your time, caused the both of you so much trouble and we find nothing?"

"It's no trouble," I repeated, and pressed a soft kiss to his hair. "You know that. You know Larry feels the same."

"I know." Daniel pulled back enough to look at me, seeming a little more at ease. "I apologize for avoiding your questions earlier. I did not want him to have to hear the tale that prisoner told me. Please..."

"I won't say a word." I reached up to trace my fingertips along his jaw, watching his eyes close briefly as I did. I felt that protective urge again, the overwhelming desire to shelter him from all of this, from anything that could hurt him. "We'll have dinner in about an hour... would you like me to help you relax before then?"

Blue eyes snapped open, and Daniel smiled, relaxing more in my arms and leaning in for a promising kiss. "We think very much alike, John."

_______

 

The next few days turned up nothing more than we already knew. More camps, a few more prisoners from Aachen, but none could give us any more information than what we already had. One man had served under Major Schreber in the Waffen-SS and confirmed that he had been taken alive. He hadn't seen him since the boats they were placed on to bring them across the channel, though, so he didn't know anything more than that. He was also unable to confirm whether or not he'dbeen wounded at the time, and I could see the worry in Daniel's eyes grow. Larry was still as collected as ever, but I could see that it was beginning to get to him, too.

When we arrived at the Cultybraggan camp outside of Comrie even I was beginning to get desperate. We only had two days left, and still more camps than we had time to visit. But this one I hoped could yield some kind of result. Word was that this camp had "black" labelled prisoners, including ones that had been transferred from another camp after a dangerous escape attempt. I kept close to Daniel as we got out of the car, taking his arm like an escort. "This is a hard camp. Stay close to me."

One guard stepped forward to meet us at the gate, looking over us warily. "State your name and business."

"I'm Captain John Murdoch of BIOS, these men are with me. I need to speak with your commanding officer."

He glanced at the other guard, who nodded and stepped forward. "Understandable, sir. I'll take you to see Lieutenant Thompson right away, if you gentlemen will follow me."

"Lieutenant Thompson?"

"He is currently in charge of this camp, sir."

We walked past a few outbuildings and metal Nissan huts, but I didn't see anyone. There was another set of gates ahead of us as we approached what I assumed was the head office. "Private, why the second set of gates?"

He glanced back at me uneasily. "We've had some... issues with the prisoners, Captain. This is a hard lot. The Lieutenant is inside."

Larry slipped ahead of me to hold the door, bringing up the rear as we were taken into the administrative office. The officer inside went pale when he saw us, and shot to his feet as if he'd been burnt. "How the hell did you get out? Captain - thank you and my apologies for troubling you with one of our prisoners - we completed our counts this morning and he was accounted for...."

There could only be one reason for his outburst. I found myself smiling, and glanced over to find a smile slowly growing on Daniel's face as well. "Lieutenant, at ease - this man is not one of your prisoners."

"I'm not sure what he's told you, Captain, but I can assure you that...."

"This man travelled up with me from London, Lieutenant. I'm Captain John Murdoch from BIOS, this is Francis Byrne of the Special Operations Executive, and Doctor Daniel Schreber. We're looking for a captured German officer for a very important intelligence initiative. From your reaction, I believe that you can help us with this."

"The Doctor's brother, I presume?"

"The same. We have the necessary paperwork to requisition the prisoner, I'm sure you'll find it all in order. Could you please bring him here?"

Thompson nodded after watching me for a moment. "Giles, gather an escort for us. Captain Murdoch and I will fetch the prisoner." The guard who had brought us in left, but the Lieutenant shook his head slowly. "I don't understand... the prisoners are all questioned before they're brought in to determine if they know anything that could be of use. What would BIOS - or the SOE - need with a captured German?"

"I'm afraid that information is classified." I took the sheath of papers from Bertrand and handed them across. "If there's a problem, I can certainly call my superiors and have them speak with you...."

"No - no, it's fine." He set the papers down, stepping out from behind the desk, pulling a log book off the shelf and leafing through it. "Who am I to complain? If you want to take one of these Christ forsaken, baby killing Gerrys away, well, that's one less that I have to worry about. Come with me."

I saw Daniel stiffen, and Larry placed a hand on his arm. I gave them both a nod before following Thompson. "Stay here with Herrington, I'll be back." There were six guards waiting when we stepped outside, who saluted us. I returned the salute, glancing to Thompson. "Are you sure this is necessary?"

Thompson strode forward, and the guards ringed us as we passed through the second set of gates and began to move through the compound beyond. "Captain, the prisoners we have here are the dregs of Nazi society. They've turned the whole damn camp into a miniature Germany. I'm certainly not going in there without guards, and neither are you. They're monsters. Gentlemen, we're going to barracks 1B."

The few men that we passed certainly seemed more antagonistic than others, giving us angry glares as they loitered around the fronts of the Nissen huts. A few gave us mocking Nazi salutes, calling out, "Sieg Heil!"

I ignored them. "It looks a bit like they have too much time on their hands."

"Undoubtedly, Captain. Can't put this scum to work, however, they're too dangerous." We reached the building in question, and the guard in front threw open the door for the lieutenant. "Prisoners - Attention!"

Most of the men in the hut stood, but not many bothered to salute. The few who did gave mocking Nazi salutes, and one even spat on the floor in front of us, barely missing the guard in the lead.

There was little to distinguish the man we were looking for from the others around him - the same worn, drab clothing, his blond hair cut short. But I would have known that face anywhere. Though he held himself differently, his build stockier and his hair cut short, he looked so much like Daniel that I completely understood the commanding officer's previous surprise. I stopped a few feet away from him, Thompson and his guards stopped behind me - creating, I hoped, an impressive picture. "Major Carsten Schreber?"

He turned his attention to me, expression impassive apart from a flicker of curiosity in blue eyes. He gave a formal salute, standing stiffly at attention. "At your service, Captain." A little more heavily accented than Daniel's English, but his voice was the same, warm and throaty and far too appealing for his own good.

"Captain John Murdoch, British Intelligence Objectives Sub-Committee." I offered a hand, which he shook with only slight hesitation. I could see him filing the name and organization away carefully, though he made no outward attempt to question me. "Sir, your presence is required, if you will please follow me?"

He glanced around at the men, who were watching him with open curiosity, a few muttering to the next under their breaths in German. "Am I being transferred, Captain?"

"Please come with us," I said again simply, and boxed him between myself and the Lieutenant before leaving the hut.

"I suppose this is about the murder?" He asked lightly. "I have already told the Lieutenant, I do not know anything of the plot."

Someone had been murdered? Good god. The Lieutenant looked angered, but didn't say anything, and I didn't ask. "Nothing like that, Major."

He pondered this for a moment. "If your organization wishes to question me, Captain, I am afraid that I have been removed from the war effort for some time. I surrendered in Aachen."

I shook my head, resisting the urge to smile. "No questioning either, Major. This way, please. My objectives will be clear momentarily." I slowed as we passed through the gates and approached the administrative office. "Lieutenant, may we use the office privately?"

He gave a small frown, but nodded. "Of course, Captain. Take your time."

"Thank you." I took Carsten him into the camp office where I'd left Daniel and Larry with Bertrand. I heard him stop behind me just past the doorway with a whispered exclamation in German, frozen as my companions got to their feet.

Larry looked more choked up than I'd ever seen, and placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder, giving a gentle push towards us. "Go on, then."

I stepped out of the way, smiling as the brothers embraced. I didn't understand the flurry of German but I understood the Major's heartbreaking, shuddering sigh, the way he murmured my lover's name against his hair, arms tight around him like he'd never let go.

When they finally broke apart the major kept one arm tight around Daniel's waist, while my lover fished for a handkerchief and removed his glasses to dry his eyes. Carsten turned his gaze to my friend, and even I could see the longing in his expression. "Thank you. This is beyond anything I could have ever hoped for. I am in debt to you."

Larry shook his head, smiling, hands clasped firmly behind his back. "You don't owe me. If anything, this is my debt to you repaid. But you know why I helped do this."

"I do," he replied, returning the smile warmly, saying as many things without words as Larry was. He was silent for a moment, then glanced back to where I still stood. "I will need you to return me bearing interrogation marks, or the other men will believe that I am helping you. They are very suspicious of anyone who appears to be cooperating with the English."

I was taken aback for a moment. "You're not - why the bloody hell would we send you back? You're coming with us."

"If you want to." Larry brought over the paperwork we'd travelled with. "My organization has asked me to recover you, if you are willing to continue to work with me, to divulge anything you know about the SS high command to Britain."

Carsten's expression stayed carefully neutral. "And when you know everything that I do?"

"Well, eventually many of the officers we have captured will go to trial for their crimes against humanity... as we make reparations for the war there is much need for a German who is both bilingual and loyal to England. As a member of the SOE and considering our background, it is likely that you would be my responsibility." Larry gave a soft smile at that, and the Major returned it.

"And what of Daniel? Is he to work for you as well?"

"Doctor Schreber is my charge," I said, and exchanged a glance and a soft smile with Daniel when he looked over to me. "He has agreed to lend his knowledge to the initiative to recover intellectual property from war-torn Germany. He will be kept safe and well."

"Is that so?" Carsten regarded me for a long moment, gaze carefully scrutinizing, then glanced to Daniel in what almost looked like worry. "_Liebst du ihn?_"__

I wasn't sure what he asked, but Daniel looked startled and almost ashamed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he lowered his head. "Carsten..."

His brother touched his cheek gently, familiarly, guiding him to return his gaze. "_Ist er gut zu dir?_"

"_Ja_." Daniel managed a little nod, and his twin smiled, sweet and warm. Carsten didn't say anything else, but after a moment Daniel relaxed, and whatever it was that had troubled them both melted away. I could see a kind of connection between them that I'd never seen before in any siblings, even the few twins I'd known, and I understood now why Daniel had been willing to go to the ends of the earth for him.

Carsten straightened, and gave me a little nod before turning to Larry. "Very well. I accept."

It didn't take long to cross the t's and dot the i's and take Carsten out of there. We piled back into the car and started into Stirling, Larry sitting in the back with the brothers, who were conversing quietly in German. We stopped in a little town of Greenloaning along the way, and I looked to Bertrand in the passenger's seat. "Herrington?"

"Yessir."

"You are on leave. I expect you at the Stirling train station at oh seven hundred hours tomorrow morning. Understood?"

He looked startled, then gave me a wide smile. "Understood, Captain. Thank you, Captain. Thank you very much." Then he had his luggage and was out of the car and gone, like he half expected me to change my mind.

"His hometown," I remarked in explanation towards the backseat as I started off again. "And it conveniently puts off any awkward questions about sharing rooms. Won't be long to reach Stirling, I think we can take an hour or so to freshen up separately, perhaps rustle up the Major a more respectable change of clothes, and then have supper. If no one has any complaints?"

I glanced back over my shoulder, and Daniel gave a little nod and a smile while his brother reached wordlessly for my friend, cupping his face and pulling him into a yearning kiss. That was enough of an answer for me.

I found a good sized inn in Stirling and left the other three to bring in the luggage while I checked in, arranging for supper to be brought up to one of the rooms in a few hours. I met them back in the lobby, handing one of the room keys to Larry. "I trust you can take the Major up to your room? Daniel and I can hit up the shops while you take advantage of the amenities. We're in the room next to you, so just stop by when you're done."

"Of course." Larry gave me a grin that was almost shy as he took the key from me, something I wasn't used to seeing in him. It was adorable. "Thanks, John."

"Captain..." Daniel's brother seemed a little hesitant, but gave me a soft smile as I glanced over.

"Please feel free to call me John, Major." I offered a hand. "John Murdoch."

"Carsten Schreber." His handshake was firm and confident. "John, for the part that you played in this, thank you. And for believing in Daniel most of all."

The sincerity charmed me, and I smiled. "It was no trouble to help, Carsten. My pleasure."

"I know," he replied with a little smirk, then took Daniel's suitcase from him and followed Larry into the stairwell.

"My pleasure as well," Daniel remarked softly as we left the inn, catching my gaze and giving me a soft, teasing smile.

It didn't take long to find a shop where we could pick up decent civilian clothes. Daniel knew his brother's sizing by memory, and we took it back to the hotel, mutually avoiding their room for our own. Daniel and I both paused upon entering the room. I could hear Larry's voice faintly through the wall, their reunion undoubtedly successful, and I chuckled softly despite myself. "Well."

"I - my apologies," Daniel said, giving a soft, embarrassed laugh himself, the tips of his ears cutely pink. "Carsten can be... very inventive."

"Since you're his twin, I completely believe that," I replied, still chuckling, and slipped my arms around his waist and drew him close, nuzzling his hair. I thought that the faint noises from next door were a very good idea, but there were a few things I needed to discuss with him first. "I've been doing some thinking," I replied. "When we get back, we have a couple of different options. The offices for both BIOS and the SOE are in London, and I assume that will be where the two of them will end up. I could try and get you turned over to the custody of the main office for BIOS in London to work intelligence there - "

"You want me to leave?" Daniel looked almost stricken as he pulled back, and I leaned in to kiss him reassuringly, tightening my arms around him.

"Of course not. Nothing could be farther from the truth. But I thought you would want to be closer to Carsten - "

"I don't want to leave you," he said a little helplessly, and I felt his fingers tighten in the back of my coat. "I thought you wanted me to help you at the manor...."

"More than anything." I slipped a hand to cup his face gently. "If you want to be there, I will keep you at the manor as long as I can. It's where I need you most, and not just for personal reasons, Daniel. I will need to move you away from the other guests as a precaution of course, if you are to be openly aiding me. There is a small study next to the room I sleep in. It is a strange size and a bit drafty, so we did not turn it into sleeping quarters when the manor was converted. But I think perhaps it would be excellent quarters for a German guest who was responsible for translations and aiding in negotiations with the other guests. There are doors into it from the hallway and also from my room. Of course the doors to my room are always locked...."

The worry in Daniel's blue eyes began to fade, and he gave me a soft smile. "Always locked, John?"

"Perhaps not always," I replied, brushing my thumb against his lips. "Depending on who is in that room next door, perhaps not ever."

He pressed a kiss to the pad of my thumb, and then leaned up to do the same to my lips, warm and lingering. "I would like that very much."

"I'm sure we will have occasion to go into London," I replied, returning soft kisses with a little appreciative noise, stroking a hand up and down his back. "I'll do my best to ensure there is."

Daniel shivered in my arms, pressing closer, seeming a little overwhelmed. "You are very kind to me, John. It is more than I ever hoped for. Thank you."

"You're worth it," I murmured, nuzzling his hair. "Daniel... can I ask you a question?"

"Of course?"

"Back at the camp, when I told Carsten that you were my charge... he asked you questions that I didn't understand. I don't want to worry him...."

Daniel glanced up at me, flushing darkly, and shook his head. "It is fine. Carsten trusts my judgement; he knows I will be safe with you."

I smoothed a stray strand of golden hair off his forehead and wet my lips, feeling strangely nervous all of a sudden. "What did he ask you?"

He lowered his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "He asked me... if you were treating me well. And also... if I love you."

"Ah." I felt my heart stop for a moment, but continued to stroke my fingers over his hair. "And your answer?"

Daniel gave a soft, nervous laugh, head still lowered. "Do you not know by now, John? The answer to both is yes."

"Perfect," I breathed, feeling a rush of elation and relief, and I urged his face to mine, kissing the corner of his mouth, and then his lips, feeling him relax against me and return the kiss. It seemed a strange series of coincidences that lead to being here with him, to loving him, and I couldn't ever wish for my life to go any other way. I took a moment to relish in the feeling of Daniel in my arms - the beautiful, brilliant man - thanking god that the million to one chance of us being together ended up in our favour. I pulled back to catch the gaze of his blue eyes, still stroking my fingers over his hair. "My answers are just the same," I told him softly, and the smile he gifted me with was worth all the trouble in the world.

________  
End: Book 2

**Author's Note:**

> Whaaa, my first Big Bang! This was written for AU_Bigbang on Livejournal. If you read this far, could you please take a moment to leave a comment and let me know what you thought? :D They make the world go 'round~~
> 
> Special Thanks To:  
> Kesterel for lending her expertise to beta my hot mess of a crossover fic, whipping me into shape and fixing all my retarded mistakes and oversights. &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3  
> Labirynthman for letting me pick his ever so knowledgeable brain about historical details of WWII and the German occupation in Paris. Even if it was primarily for slash erotica. &lt;3  
> Chibifukurou for the adorable chibis! and Speak_me_fair for the unexpected and amazing gift banners and indulging my fantasy of Kiefer in a Nazi uniform. #^_^;#  
> Linndechir for beta-ing my German &lt;3  
> Sharpiesgal and all my other cheerleaders for encouraging the insanity. XD


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